Absolution
by SGAFan
Summary: After the catastrophic failure of project Arcturus, will another disaster drive them still further apart, or allow Rodney to earn John's trust again?
1. Chapter 1

"_To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you."_

_Lewis B. Smedes_

_------------------------------- _

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard exited the conference room, his confident pace taking him across the control room towards the back stairs. He tried to ignore the hail behind him, but there was an added level of determination in the repeated call.

"Colonel!"

He paused a moment before he turned and met Rodney McKay's small smile with an unreadable mask. "McKay."

Rodney's smile faded slightly. He looked around a minute, apparently reassuring himself they were alone.

"Did you want something?" John asked impatiently. His gaze narrowed as Rodney fidgeted slightly.

"Yeah, uh.…" Rodney scratched the back of his neck. "Look, uh, thanks for keeping me on the team for this mission."

A fleeting moment of confusion beat back John's irritation. "What are you talking about, McKay?"

Rodney's squirming intensified. "Well, I mean... you know, since Project Arcturus.…" His voice trailed off.

John's confusion faded away, his gaze hardening as unspoken words floated between them; words like trust, betrayal, ego. A part of John wanted to shoot every one of those words at the scientist, along with a few others, but he settled for cold detachment. "McKay, this isn't the first mission since... that. Why are we talking about this **now**?" He just stared back, as a glimmer of familiar annoyance returned to Rodney, but, as quickly as it appeared, the irritation fled Rodney's face, only to be replaced by uncertainty.

"Those were routine," Rodney's voice was quiet. "Meet with allies, follow up recon on scouted planets, that kind of thing. This is.… This is different." He looked away, his discomfort clearly increasing. He scratched his head absently and grimaced. "Look, I just wanted to say thanks for keeping me on your team. I told you I'd prove myself.… I meant it."

John silently pondered Rodney's slightly imploring expression. Fresh from the mission briefing where they'd reviewed MALP telemetry on an impressive expanse of ruins bearing similarities to Ancient architecture, John really hadn't had a chance to consider how he felt having Rodney on his team. _Okay,_ he admitted to himself, _I have had the time…._ He stifled a sigh.

He'd never really spent much time thinking about whether or not members of his team should be on specific missions with him. He'd long ago placed his trust and confidence in the people he'd selected, and that had been enough, up until now. But he'd never faced something quite like this before. Rodney's betrayal of his trust ran deep and John knew it was a dangerous rift to have in an otherwise cohesive team. You had to watch your team's back and trust they were on your six as well; and when they said something with confidence, you had to believe them. Implicitly. But then, there was Project Arcturus.…

"Colonel?" Rodney's voice was hesitant.

Resigned, John shook his head. "You're a member of my team, McKay." His tone was final, as if that one sentence explained everything, but even as he said it John felt the undercurrents of hesitation within him/ From the unconvinced look on Rodney's face, he knew his voice had betrayed him as well.

"Right," Rodney's reply was quiet. Without another word, he turned away and crossed the control room, never once looking back.

John watched him go. _Damn it._ Rodney had asked John to trust him and John had done it without hesitation, as he would with any member of his team. And yet…

He rubbed his brow wearily. _And yet he destroyed two thirds of a solar system and nearly got us killed in the process._

John's thoughts turned to all the times Rodney **had** pulled their butts out of the fire. The Lagrangian satellite; lightening-powered shields; using his personal shield to walk through an energy creature and coax it through the Stargate….

John's thoughts lingered on that last example. That, more than anything, stood out to him. He'd still been considering his team members at the time, and he'd realized there was more to McKay than just an annoying, self-centered attitude. In spite of his blustering, the guy had chutzpah when the chips were down, and that was something John found essential to anyone on his team. A spark of respect once more glimmered briefly within John, before it was extinguished by the black cloud of distrust he carried.

The discord did nothing to bolster John's confidence. A team had to function as a unit: harmonious in every way. Like a sour note in a concerto, this one waver, and the hesitation it could breed, could ruin the entire unit. _Not to mention get us all killed_. John tried to put it all out of his mind as he turned and started down the stairs, but the blow to his self-assurance couldn't be ignored.

John stepped through the gate and stopped. He slowly lowered his gun and looked around in amazement.

"Whoa…." Rodney's response echoed what John was thinking.

"Yeah," John agreed quietly. The ruins were extensive. Even in their disintegrating state, they hinted that, in its day, this had been a large settlement. Crumbling spires still stretched high into the sky, and John could only guess at the stunning architecture now reduced to rubble that littered ground all around them.

John walked forward slowly. "Why do you sound so surprised, McKay? You saw the MALP telemetry."

"Didn't really get a sense of this place from video feed. This is… impressive," Rodney admitted. He tapped a few keys on his data pad. "Definitely Ancient architecture, just as the MALP images indicated. Faint energy readings coming from... that way." Rodney pointed towards the ruins of a very large structure.

John nodded. "Okay, good place to start." He turned and tapped his headset lightly. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard. The ruins are pretty extensive; this is going to take a while. McKay's detected some faint energy readings we're checking on now. Will advise when we know more."

"Copy that," one of the technicians responded, "Atlantis out."

"Sheppard out." John turned away and started down the path leading from the gate, leaving the sound of the wormhole disengaging behind him.

"Do you think there could be Ancestor technology here we can use?" Teyla asked quietly. "It has been ten thousand years."

"Doubt any of it is in one piece," Ronon muttered.

"Just understanding how it works could allow us to reverse engineer it. All we need are pieces, functional or not," Rodney responded. "Besides, there's always a chance we could find a Zed PM."

"We already have one," Ronon answered.

"So then we'd have two!" Rodney snapped back. "One more and we could fly Atlantis again." He looked away from Ronon, apparently deciding not to acknowledge the Satedan's unimpressed grunt.

John stopped in front of the building Rodney had indicated and looked upwards, his gaze narrowing. Ten thousand years of exposure to the elements had taken its toll on the structure and, right now, John wasn't sure some of the ruins could stand a strong windstorm. He reached out, running his hand down a nearby column, pursing his lips as the surface crumbled under his touch. His gut instinct shouted out a warning to him. "I don't like this," he muttered.

"It's ten thousand years old," Rodney responded. "What do you expect?"

John turned and briefly eyed the doctor. 'It's pretty fragile." He swung back and flipped on the light on his P-90. Moving the gun in a large arc, he scanned as much of the interior as he could. Several large columns lay broken on the floor, while pieces of the ceiling ranging in size from a basketball to a small car were scattered around the room. From behind him, he heard a loud, impatient sigh.

"We're not going to learn anything from here!" Rodney prompted sarcastically.

John glared for a moment at Rodney. The doctor's expression abruptly cooled and he silently looked away. John resisted the urge to grind his teeth, partly from the uncomfortable strain between them and partly because he didn't feel like doing anything to ease it. The familiar note of discord sounded within him, but he stifled it and focused on the mission. Sighing quietly, he looked back through the open doorway. His instincts screamed at him not to go in, but his rational mind won over. _If there's any chance there's some technology we can use…_ ."Okay, but nobody sneeze."

He slowly entered the building, the rest of the team right behind him, and carefully stepped over a large column to look up at the wide hole in the ceiling. Sunlight streamed through, creating a roughly spherical spot of light in the center of the dark antechamber. He squinted at the bright sunlight. "McKay?"

"Scanning," Rodney's answer was almost immediate. "Energy readings are pretty faint, but," Rodney pointed left and started across the large room, coming from that way."

"Hold on a second, McKay." John waved at the doctor before turning and looking at his other team members. "Teyla, Ronon, stay out here. We'll check in on the radio every fifteen minutes."

Teyla nodded once, but Ronon apparently wasn't so convinced.

"I should go with you," he rumbled.

John shook his head slightly. "Nah, you'll just get bored. We won't be long." He arched an amused brow at Ronon's shrug before he looked back at Rodney. "Lead the way."

He followed along behind as the doctor exited the antechamber through a large doorway.

"It's in pretty bad shape." Rodney flashed his light around, highlighting the cracks running down the walls, as they picked their way through debris and down a long narrow hallway.

"Yeah," John agreed. "So let's just find out if there is anything useful, and then get out of here."

"For once, I agree with you." Rodney looked up, his face lined with tension. "Confined spaces and I definitely do not get along. Especially nearly collapsing, confined spaces.…"

John managed to check his irritation. "I **know that**, Rodney." He let the silence linger for a moment as he stepped over a large chunk of carved stone. "Just… think about your work."

"Right! Thank you, Dr. Freud," Rodney snapped. He stopped abruptly and stared at the irritated expression on John's face. "Sorry, I uhh... that was out of line..."

John shook his head. "Just go."

Rodney looked at him for a moment longer before once again making his way down the hallway.

John's thoughts dwelled on Rodney's insecurity, and his own frustration, as he followed. He felt in limbo around Rodney: one minute trusting him, and the next not sure if he should trust him at all. John knew his own cold mood had done nothing to help the way Rodney had practically been walking on eggshells around him ever since Arcturus, but, damn it, Rodney's ego had nearly gotten them **both** killed! A cynical, half-ironic smile briefly tugged at John's mouth as he wondered why he missed dealing with Rodney's sour attitude. He focused his attention once more on Rodney's back.

Before long, the hallway widened into a small room, also littered with rubble.

Rodney immediately made a beeline for a partly concealed control panel on the other side of the room.

While Rodney scanned the panel, John looked around, amazed that the ceiling of this part of the structure was still intact. He eyeballed the cracked walls and disintegrating columns warily and then shook his head. He felt like he was standing in a house of cards…and someone was about to sneeze on it. "Rodney? Do me a favor and don't bump anything."

Rodney glanced over his shoulder, his gaze following John's to the closest pillar. His eyes widened momentarily, before he nodded slowly. "Uh…right." He turned back and continued examining the control panel.

John's headset crackled: "Colonel Sheppard, this is Teyla."

He reached up and pressed the call button on his radio. "Go ahead."

"Is everything all right?"

Even over the radio, John could hear the concern in her voice. "Yeah, we're good. McKay might have found something, but it's too soon to tell. Check in again in fifteen. Sheppard out." His gaze narrowed as he stared at Rodney's back. "Rodney? Anything?"

Rodney sighed. "Maybe. There's just enough power here to maintain the database, that's all."

John slowly crossed the room and looked over Rodney's shoulder. "That's all? Just the database?"

Rodney looked up. "Well, whoever lived here made sure to set up enough power to maintain this database for a long time. At least ten thousand years. There has to be a reason why." Rodney looked back down at the panel. "I just have to **find** the reason. And for that, I need more power."

John frowned. "Think you can do that without bringing the walls down on us?"

Rodney looked around. "If I only do a partial power up, yes. Full power would probably shake this place apart."

Hesitation flowed through John. "You're sure you can control it?"

"Yes," Rodney immediately answered.

The twinge in John's gut intensified as he cocked his head and stared at Rodney. Rodney looked away. "Okay, no, not a hundred percent sure. This equipment is pretty old. Anything **could** happen. But the likelihood is pretty low. Besides, without power, we can't do anything anyway." He looked back at John hesitantly.

John drummed his fingers on the console for a moment before nodding once, curtly. "Do it."

"Doing it." Rodney knelt and pulled off the cover of an access panel on the console.

John stepped away and walked along the wall, scanning his light over various control panels and artwork that surrounded him.

"Got it!" Rodney suddenly exclaimed.

John looked around as a few dim lights came on, casting an eerie faint yellow glow over them. He nodded to himself. "Good. What…?" His voice was cut off by sparks flying from the console. Abruptly, a vibration went through the wall as a whine from the control panel gradually grew in pitch. John stared at the cracks in the pillars. "McKay…?" His voice trailed off in the wake of a low rumbling sound. At first it was faint, and he felt it under his feet more than heard it, but the rumbling quickly gained intensity.

"Crap!" Rodney jumped back, shielding his eyes from more sparks. He risked a glance back at the console. "Manual override's failed! Power levels are rising to full capacity!"

John's head shot up, and he watched, wide eyed, as a crack in the wall before him expanded at an alarming rate. He ducked when a piece of the wall landed only a foot away from him and looked at Rodney, who stumbled back from the control panel. "Go! NOW!"

A falling chunk of stone slammed into John's shoulder and sent him staggering. Another one rolled into his legs and he was powerless to stop himself from falling. He struggled to stand, only to be hit in the back of the head and knocked to the ground again. He saw stars as he threw his arms over his head, trying cover himself as debris rained down on him.

It seemed like forever while he laid there, praying nothing large would land on him, powerless to do anything but flinch every time something hit him. It took a long moment before he realized the dangerous rain had stopped. Carefully, he pulled his arms away from his head and shook off the grime and small fragments of masonry that coated him . As he looked up, his lungs protested the thick dust in the room and he coughed loudly, sending a spike of pain through his chest and head. He carefully touched the back of his head, wincing as his had came away wet. "Damn it." He blinked hard, his eyes watering from the dirty air, and squinted around. It was pitch dark, and the cynical side of him couldn't believe that the ceiling still held together.

"McKay?" John coughed. "Rodney?" he croaked again. He listened in silence for a moment, waiting for an answer. When he didn't receive one, urgency gripped him.

He shifted his weight and pushed off a large piece of rubble resting against his side. He winced and groaned quietly as his left rib cage protestedat the movement but, after a couple careful breaths, decided the ribs weren't broken. Cracked maybe, but not broken. He gently poked at some tenderness in his thigh, reassuring himself it wasn't broken either. Miraculously, he'd managed to come through the ordeal relatively unscathed.

He cleared his gravelly throat and nce again called out to the doctor,only to be met with more foreboding silence. Coughing again, he pursed his lips and rubbed his eyes still trying to clear the dirt from them, as he slowly stood. He could tune out the pain from his ribs, but the tilting jar to his balance that followed refused to be ignored. His hand flailed, latching onto a piece of rubble, as he closed his eyes against the vertigo washing over him. Taking a couple breaths, he collected himself and overcame his nausea, before he slid his foot across the floor, relieved when his toe hit the hard surface of his P-90. He carefully bent over and grabbed the gun. Praying the light still worked, he flipped the switch and smiled briefly as a small stream of light cut through the dark, dirty air.

He scanned the light over the piles of rubble that surrounded him, momentarily amazed that he hadn't been killed. Then his gut clenched again, this time in alarm. "Rodney!" He called more loudly, provoking another coughing fit, while he looked around, intently searching for the doctor. Abruptly, his light caught on something and he froze. Protruding from a nearby pile of wreckage was a limp hand,pale in comparison to the dark jacket cuff that bordered it.

"Crap!" John struggled through the rubble to reach Rodney and called again. "McKay? Talk to me!" He lurched to a stop, his light following the arm back into the ruins to where he could just about make out Rodney's face through the dirt.

Setting his P-90 on the rubble, he dropped to his knees. He hastily cleared dirt from around Rodney's face. "Rodney! Can you hear me?" He threw aside a small chunk of rubble and pressed his fingers into the doctor's throat. "McKay! Wake up!" He briefly closed his eyes in relief as he felt the strong beat of Rodney's pulse. Holding the back of his hand close to Rodney's nose and mouth, he waited a tense moment before the faint warmness of Rodney's breath flowed over his knuckles. He reached for his radio. "Teyla, this is Sheppard. Part of the ruins collapsed. McKay's pinned and unconscious. Dial Atlantis. get Beckett and some help out here!"

"I'm on it." Ronon's terse voice cut in.

"Colonel? Ronon is returning to the gate as we speak to contact Atlantis. We heard a loud rumble even from here. Are you all right?"

John stared down at Rodney's unconscious face. "I'm okay." He coughed, turned and shone his light across the room. "Damn."

"Colonel?" Teyla's questioning voice answered him.

John shook his head at the massive twist of rubble that blocked their escape. "The entrance is blocked. We're definitely going to need some help to get out of here."

"I understand. I will contact you again when Ronon and help returns. Teyla out."

John sighed, and focused his attention back on Rodney. He shook his head in concern as he scanned the unconscious doctor. He couldn't see most of Rodney's legs, which were covered by a large column. Managing to worm his hand into the tight space between Rodney's legs and the column, he nodded in slight relief as he discovered that, as far as he could reach, the doctor's legs weren't pinned or crushed by the column's weight. Miraculously, it must've caught on something else, stopping it a hairsbreadth from landing on Rodney. The relief was momentary: he winced as his gaze travelled up Rodney's body to the unnatural bend in the doctor's left forearm. He finished his cursory exam by noting a large and rapidly discoloring cut that dominated Rodney's forehead, and which was still bleeding freely, obscuring the blood from numerous scratches on his bruised face.

John returned his attention to Rodney's legs. He carefully prodded the left leg, feeling for any breaks, before gently shifting it slightly. He pursed his lips as the leg refused to move, apparently trapped further down than he could reach. Not knowing the extent of Rodney's injuries, and not willing to exacerbate them, he relinquished his hold on Rodney's leg.

He swallowed hard against another a wave of nausea, before he squatted and slid his hands under the column. He grunted loudly as he tried to shift it but it was too heavy and refused to budge. Pain spiked through his left side again, and he hissed in response. "Damn it!" Dark spots danced through his vision, while his head pounded in splitting pain. Panting slightly, he let go and sat back.

He curled one arm around the left side of his ribcage and rested his other arm on his knees as he took a couple shallow breaths and bit back his frustration. He knew the column was most likely too heavy for one man to lift, but he still felt like his injuries were stopping him from helping his teammate, and that grated on him, leaving him with the bitter taste of guilt.

He looked down, his attention captured by a quiet moan. "McKay?" He watched as the doctor's face twitched and Rodney let out another soft moan. "Rodney?"

Slowly, Rodney's eyes opened, his expression groggy. "Wh… what happened?" He tried to move his arm and cried out loudly in pain.

His own arm pressed hard against his side, John knelt next to Rodney. "Take it easy. Don't try to move."

"Oh God," Rodney's face contorted in agony and he squeezed his eyes shut against it.

John pursed his lips and put a strong, reassuring hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Easy."

"Yeah," Rodney hissed through clenched teeth, "that's definitely broken…."

"Yep," John responded softly.

Rodney opened his eyes and stared up at John. "You could at least have the decency to be hurt," he snapped, before grunting against the pain.

John was surprised by the dark amusement flowing through him. For a fleeting moment, he welcomed the normal snappy reply, in spite of the circumstances. "I bruised my thigh pretty good, have a hell of a headache and probably a couple cracked ribs," he pointed out.

Annoyance flickered in Rodney's pained gaze. "Oh, that's great," he grunted. "I'm sure you're just going to… die on the spot!" He looked around, the annoyed sneer disappearing as something akin to fear took hold. "Wha…what happened?" he asked again.

John's gaze narrowed as he stared intently at Rodney's glassy eyes. "How much do you remember?"

Rodney coughed against the dust and grunted in pain. "I found the power source... then you shouting something about getting out of here." His eyes squeezed shut, his expression turning tragic. "Damn it," he muttered. "I did it again. It's my fault…."

As much as he wanted to blame Rodney for the situation, John's sense of fairness wouldn't allow it. "Not completely." He sighed. "You said there was a slight chance this could happen."

"Leave it to us to defy the odds," Rodney muttered. He shifted slightly and winced. "Maybe if I would've…."

"McKay," John cut him off abruptly. He waited until Rodney looked at him. "This isn't going to help us get out of here." He clenched his jaw and stared coldly back at Rodney's hesitant gaze. Unbidden irritation pushed at his control. A small part inside screamed at him to blame Rodney, never trust him again, boot him off the team…. John turned away from it and took a careful, deep breath.

"Right," Rodney responded quietly. He looked around again. "Care to fill in the blanks?"

John swept his light around the room. "It was some sort of collapse…."

"We're trapped?"

Panic cracked Rodney's voice and John abruptly shone his light down again. "McKay…?"

With his good arm, Rodney pushed on the pillar trapping his legs. "You… you have to get this thing off me!"

John's irritation rose. Claustrophobia wasn't high on his list of desirable traits for a team member and that only further fueled his irritation. "Rodney, take it easy." He forced a measure of calmness to his voice, but the injured doctor would have nothing to do with it.

"You don't understand! We're… I'm… I can't get out!" Rodney's panicked voice rose with each word.

John's temper snapped. "God damn it, McKay! Get a grip!" As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He watched as Rodney's panic intensified, made worse by his anxiety over John's reaction.

"I… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… I can't stay here! I…." Rodney's voice trailed off as he winced in pain, his breathing abruptly turning shallow and fast.

John leaned forward. "Rodney?"

"Please… get…me…out…of…here…," Rodney gasped, as any shred of calmness he had was utterly overwhelmed by terror.

Alarmed, John watched Rodney's condition deteriorate as panic settled in. Inwardly, he berated himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. Claustrophobic or not, Rodney had pulled their butts out of the fire enough times to earn a little leniency. John pushed his emotions down. With one hand, he reached out, grabbing the side of Rodney's face. "Rodney, look at me." His voice was firm, but calm. "Look at me," he repeated, his voice slightly louder. He held his intensity as he locked gazes with Rodney. "We're going to get out of here, but you need to get a hold of yourself and calm down." He held Rodney's attention until the doctor nodded slightly, the fear leaving his eyes.

"Right… of course. I just… have a problem with…."

John let go of him and sat back. "I know." He watched as Rodney again winced. "What is it?"

"Beyond the obvious?" Rodney snapped, somewhat back to normal.

"Yes." John stared at him. "How are your ribs?"

Rodney squinted at him. "How'd you know?"

"I've seen a few broken ones in my time. How bad?"

"Bad enough!" Rodney flinched again.

John arched his brows. "Then I guess you really need to stay calm, don't you?" He smiled cynically as Rodney glowered at him. Reaching behind his back, he grabbed his canteen, grimacing at the wetness his fingers encountered. Unhooking the flask from his belt, he brought it into the light and examined the hole in the now empty bottlecanteen. "Great," he muttered. He glanced at Rodney. "Yours?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I expect the puddle I'm lying in means mine is about as well off as yours."

John stood and scanned the room. Debris lay scattered everywhere, and he was again amazed that either one of them were still alive. He paused in his scan, his light settling on the shattered console. It had taken a direct hit in the center, with pieces of the casing splintering under the impact.

He picked his way through the rubble towards it, all the while fighting a small smile at Rodney's normal snappy attitude. Injured and probably more scared than he'd ever admit, Rodney didn't have the extra strength to tread lightly with John, so he'd fallen into his normal behavior. In a way, John welcomed it. He relished the normalcy, but hesitation still haunted him, robbing the smile from his face. A part of him frowned on the shred of normalcy, and demanded that he deny it, and turn away from it… turn away from Rodney. He shook his head. Hesitation or no, he was determined not to let it show. Not now, not while Rodney's life could depend on his cool head. His well-practiced detachment took over and, like any career soldier, John pushed away his feelings and focused on the situation.

"Colonel?" Rodney's quiet voice drifted to John.

"Sit tight McKay, I'm investigating." John stepped over a large column.

"'Sit tight', he says," Rodney muttered. "Like I have a choice."

_------------------------------- _

The sound of the Stargate activating distracted Elizabeth from her work. She rounded her desk and headed into the control room. Stopping next to one of the control consoles she looked inquiringly at Radek Zelenka who was seated behind it.

"Incoming wormhole," Radek confirmed. He glanced at a nearby and shook his head. "No IDC."

Elizabeth nodded once, curtly. "Keep the shield up." Her hand unconsciously found her headset when static briefly preceded a deep, determined voice.

"Atlantis, this is Ronon. One of the buildings collapsed and trapped Sheppard and McKay. We need some help."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped in shock for a moment, before she recovered. She glanced at Zelenka. "Lower the shield." Elizabeth tapped her radio call button. "Ronon, this is Weir. Are Rodney and the Colonel all right?"

"McKay's unconscious, but Sheppard's okay. He says their way out is blocked."

"Copy that," Elizabeth nodded. "The shield is down, come through."

"No," Ronon's response was absolute. "You know what's going on, just send help. I'm staying here."

Elizabeth arched her brows at his attitude. He hadn't been with them long, but she'd already come to realize that politeness wasn't one of Ronon's strong suits and he definitely had little use for command protocols. More than once, Elizabeth had let it slide, and this time was no different. "Copy that. We'll get things organized and send help as soon as possible. In the mean time let me brief Beckett and send him through immediately." She hardened her voice slightly. "Wait for him please."

"Okay," Ronon complied, his voice gruff.

Elizabeth smiled slightly despite the urgency she felt. "Thank you. Weir out." She waited a second before tapping her headset again. "Beckett, this is Weir."

"Yes, Elizabeth?" Carson replied casually.

"Carson, we have a medical situation off world. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay are trapped in a building collapse of some sort. Rodney's unconscious but we don't know the extent of any other injuries right now. I need you geared up and in the control room immediately. Ronon's waiting for you on the other side."

"Aye," Carson responded, "I'll get a kit together and be right up. Beckett out."

Elizabeth looked down at Zelenka. "Radek, I trust you know what personnel we need to bring in on this?"

Radek nodded. "Yes. I will get them together in the conference room immediately. There are also some US Army engineers on the Daedalus. It would be helpful to bring them in as well."

Elizabeth nodded. "Inform Colonel Caldwell of the situation and request his assistance. I'm sure he'll help however he can." She smiled thinly at Radek's nod.

It wasn't long before Beckett, decked out in full off-world gear with a large backpack on his back, trotted into the gate room. He waved up to her and she nodded at the gate technician. "Dial."

She turned back, watching as the gate dialed and the wormhole flushed into existence. Her gaze fell on Carson in the moment before he confidently strode through the gate and disappeared. Her thoughts turned to John and Rodney and her mind begged for answers. How did this happen? Were they okay? Her grip tightened on the railing. She knew things had been tense between them since Arcturus. John seemed on the verge, more than once, of cutting Rodney off his team, but something always stopped him and she was glad for that. They'd worked closely for over a year, and while Rodney's attitude could drive most people crazy, John's laid-back manner seemed the perfect counter for it. It was an amazing, if not unusual, pairing, with each of them augmenting the other's strengths and that blend was something Elizabeth was reluctant to let die so easily. Not that she had any say in it, not really.

If Rodney regained consciousness, the two of them would have to put their differences aside and work together. Deep down, she hoped they could.

_------------------------------- _

Ronon stood silently in front of the active gate. He glared once more at the wormhole, his irritation increasing. What was taking them so long? After seven years of running from the Wraith, he was, admittedly, short on patience, and who could blame him?

His mouth twitched as he fought a small, wry grin. A few months ago, he would've never seen himself allying with anyone. Being hunted by the Wraith, knowing that anyone around him would be in danger, had led him to be a loner. He was used to it, and in some ways preferred it.

But, then there was Sheppard and his people. They'd removed the transmitter and freed him, without demanding anything in return… except the safety of Teyla, someone he really had never had any intentions of hurting, unless forced to. They'd tried to help him get home, and when that wasn't possible, they never asked him to leave, never made him feel unwelcome. Yeah, he'd had a guard escort for a while, but that had never bothered him. He was a soldier. He expected that and approved of it.

And now, being on Sheppard's team gave Ronon a place to belong, and it'd been a long time since he'd had that. Ronon looked back at the wormhole as Beckett emerged.

"Ronon," Beckett nodded. "Dr. Weir briefed me on the situation. Where am I going?" He looked around, before looking back at Ronon.

"I'll take you," Ronon muttered, dubious of letting the doctor go anywhere on his own. He turned only to be stopped by Beckett's voice.

"Hold on. I can find it. Ye should stay here and help the rescue team when they come through. Dr. Weir and Dr. Zelenka are organizing a team right now, including some engineers from the Daedalus. Just point me in the right direction."

Ronon ground his teeth in irritation. "Doc…."

"Ach! Don't ye 'Doc' me," Beckett interrupted. "'Tis the right thing to do and you know it."

Ronon half sighed, half growled but acquiesced. "Straight down the path. You'll see Teyla."

"Aye." Beckett stepped around Ronon. "Thanks lad."

Ronon watched the doctor' retreating back. At first, he'd thought Sheppard's people were soft, even weak, but the more he was around all of them, the more he doubted it. He nodded slightly in approval, a small smile warming his features slightly. He was glad he'd been wrong.

His smile faded as his gaze settled on the not-so-distant ruins. More than once, he admitted to himself, he'd read Sheppard's people wrong, but this time, with the strain he could feel between Sheppard and McKay, he knew he was reading them right. The working relationship, the ability of each man to trust the other, was damaged; as a career soldier, Ronon knew the dangers of that. In some ways, Sheppard reminded Ronon of himself. A fighter, tenacious when he had to be and ruthless when needed; unlike Ronon, Sheppard was easy going most of the time. _Didn't spend seven years running from the Wraith, or lose his home world and everything he loved to them…._ But it was that easy-going attitude that kept Sheppard from outright killing McKay, something Ronon thought he might have done a long time ago without Sheppard there as a buffer.

Ronon's thoughts turned to McKay. Unlike with Sheppard, Ronon had absolutely nothing in common with the scientist. He was soft, mostly defenseless, and completely the opposite of Ronon. Yet, he was smart. Ronon ground his teeth. Damn smart. The one redeeming quality McKay had, and the one thing that kept him alive. Ronon sighed. _Not to mention us…, h_e reluctantly conceded. McKay, for all his shortcomings, had saved their butts more than once.

Ronon paced. Once again he reflected that sometimes he just didn't get Sheppard's people. The strain between them was distracting, and Ronon chafed against it. Distraction got you killed. Distrust got you killed. Anything but absolute harmony in your team got you killed. He knew Sheppard knew that; they were alike enough that Ronon could be certain. But he was baffled as to why they didn't air it once and for all.

"_Deal with it! Fight it out! But never let it fester, or you'll die from your mistakes, and so will everyone around you!"_

Kell's words rang in Ronon's ears and he smiled a dark, malicious smile in response. Odd that he should remember Kell's advice, when he could still see his Task Master's dying expression.

Ronon allowed himself to look past Kell's deception and cowardliness to find the truth in what he'd taught in Ronon's younger days. Ronon briefly closed his eyes and let the memories flow through him.

_The training sword was light in his hands as he squared off with Kell. Anger clouded his thoughts but he parried every blow Kell sent his way._

_The Task Master stepped back. "You're not focused, Ronon." His gaze narrowed harshly. "Who clouds your mind?"_

"_No one," Ronon spat. _

_At that moment, Kell attacked and Ronon abruptly found himself flat on his back, with Kell's training sword at his throat. "A warrior trusts in himself first, Ronon. Give your trust cautiously, but when you do, give it fully. If it's betrayed, deal with it! Fight it out! But never let it fester or you'll die from your mistakes and so will everyone around you!"_

Ronon's mirthless smile pulled him back to the present. Kell had betrayed his trust, and Ronon had dealt with it in the only way he knew how. His thoughts turned back to Sheppard and McKay. Killing McKay was out of the realm of possibility for Sheppard, but part of what Kell had told him still rang true. The distrust between them festered and would not go away unless dealt with. Ronon sighed. He wondered if either one would ever see that or do anything about it before it was too late.

_------------------------------- _

John stopped before the console. He ran his hand over a large splinter of the casing about two inches wide and roughly two feet long. "Perfect, if there's another one…," he said absently.

"Perfect for what? You're not doing something stupid that's going to bring the rest of this building down on us, are you?" Rodney questioned.

"No, McKay, although I'm not the one that got us into this mess in the first place." John pulled hard on the splinter, only stopping when it cracked and came loose. He looked up, noticing the silence. "Rodney?"

"I'm fine…. Well, fine all things considered."

"Good." John reached under the shattered panel and jerked loose another piece, roughly the same size as the first one. He carefully made his way back to Rodney and knelt next to him. He set the two panel pieces on a nearby chunk of rubble and his P-90 next to them. Reaching into his vest pockets, he pulled out a sturdy roll of bandage wrap from one pocket and his Swiss army knife from another. He looked up to see Rodney eyeing the supplies suspiciously.

"That's not…?" Rodney started.

"I have to set your arm," John interrupted, leaning back on his heel and resting his elbow on his bent knee. "You know that."

"Oh…." Rodney's voice wavered, "Great." He turned his head away and closed his eyes.

John's gaze narrowed in concern. "Rodney?"

"I'm fine…." Rodney paused and then sighed. "Why do I keep saying that? I'm not fine. I'm having problems with the thought of excruciating pain."

John pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. "It'll feel better when I'm done," he offered.

"Somehow, that's less than comforting **right now,**" Rodney answered.

He stared silently at Rodney for a moment,until the scientist nodded. "I know. Has to be done."

John gave Rodney's good arm a brief squeeze of reassurance and nodded silently. He jumped as his radio chattered at him.

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Teyla."

John tapped his radio call button. "Go ahead, Teyla."

"Colonel, Dr. Weir is organizing a rescue team as we speak. Engineers from the Daedalus are being brought down to supplement the crew from Atlantis. They should begin arriving with equipment shortly. Dr. Beckett is here and wishes to speak with you."

"Copy that, Teyla. Put Beckett on."

"Colonel?" Beckett's voice held it's usual businesslike tone. "Are you all right?"

"I'm a little banged up, but okay. Rodney's injured though."

"Aye, I heard. Is he conscious?"

"Yeah, stand by." John looked down as Rodney reached up with his uninjured arm and tapped his radio.

"Carson? It's Rodney."

"Rodney, how are ye?" Beckett's voice was calm but serious.

"Been better." Rodney winced as he shifted against the rubble.

"Rodney, I need to know exactly what's wrong with you, all right?" Carson questioned. "Tell me what hurts."

"Everything!" Rodney snapped.

"McKay," John interrupted quietly. He hardened his expression and arched his brows slightly.

"I need ye to be a wee bit more specific, Rodney," Carson answered patiently.

Rodney stared at John for a moment longer before nodding. "My left arm is broken right below the elbow, at least I'm pretty sure it's broken…."

John clicked his radio on and interrupted. "It's broken, Doc."

"Do you mind?" Rodney glared briefly at John before returning his attention to the radio. "Sheppard has this notion that he's going to set it for me."

John made a face at the lack of trust in Rodney's voice but said nothing.

"Aye," Carson answered, "The Colonel knows what he's doing, and it needs to be done."

John smiled slightly at Rodney's glare.

"Fine," Rodney snapped. "My head is killing me and I think it's bleeding, but I don't know from where."

John interrupted again. "He's got about a two inch laceration on his forehead, Doc. Looks like the bleeding's stopped, but he's got a hell of a goose egg from it."

"Aye. He sounds lucid for now, but keep an eye on that, Colonel."

"Copy that," John responded.

Rodney winced again. "It hurts to breathe, so I think I broke some ribs… and I think my right leg is bleeding."

"What?" John sat up straight. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't notice it until now!" Rodney shot back. "But… I can feel the blood." He blanched and let his head fall back against the piece of rubble behind him.

"Colonel," Carson prompted, "can you tell me how badly he's bleeding?"

John sighed and shook his head in frustration. "No. His legs are blocked by a large pillar. I tried to move it but, no dice."

"Rodney?" Carson asked. "Can ye move your legs?"

Rodney grimaced and then nodded. "Yeah, but something's got my feet."

"Colonel, is there any way for you to tell where and how bad he's bleeding?" Carson urged.

John sighed. The doctor sounded calm, but there was an added tension to his voice. "Stand by, Doc, I might be able to slip a hand under the column."

"Copy that." Carson responded.

John stood and stepped over Rodney. He knelt, wincing slightly at the pain from his ribs and placed a supporting hand on the top of the column. He closed his eyes for a moment as a wave of dizziness passed over him, before he glanced at Rodney. "You don't have any diseases I should know about, right?" he quipped darkly.

Rodney glared back. "Funny, " he snapped. "I should tell Carson about your ribs for that. Don't get fresh while you're down there."

John rolled his eyes. "You're not my type." He bent over and squeezed his hand between the column and Rodney's right leg. Carefully, he pushed his hand in further and made his way down Rodney's leg. Abruptly, his fingers encountered something warm and sticky. He frowned. "Found it." He felt Rodney flinch.

"Obviously!"

"Sorry." John pulled his hand out, and held it up in the narrow stream of light from his P-90. His eyes widened as he took in the amount of blood that covered it. He swallowed. He didn't need to see the gash to know it was deep and hadn't stopped bleeding. He looked at Rodney, whose gaze was fixed on his hand.

"Oh no," Rodney muttered.

"Take it easy, McKay," John answered quietly. He clicked the call button on his radio. "Doc? I found it. Pretty good sized gash above his knee, and its still bleeding."

"Can ye get a bandage to it?" Carson responded.

"Sort of," John sighed. "I could get one to it, but there's no way I can maneuver my arm to wrap a pressure bandage around his leg. All I can do is cover it."

"Aye," Carson responded, "do the best ye can, and get his arm set. Contact me when you're finished. Beckett out."

"Copy that, Sheppard out." John absently wiped his hand on his pants and reached into one of his vest pockets. He pulled out a thick bandage and glanced at Rodney's closed eyes. "How ya doin' Rodney?"

"Just peachy," Rodney muttered. "I'm going to bleed to death before they get us out."

John rolled his eyes. _He's enough to try anyone's patience…._ He pursed his lips and held onto his air of confidence. "You're not going to bleed to death." He knew his voice was slightly patronizing, but he continued anyway. "They're going to get us out of here and we're both going to be fine." He folded the bandage in half, trying his best to keep the wound surface clean, and slid his arm back under the pillar. The space was small, barely large enough for his hand to fit, much less have any room to maneuver. It took him a few tries, but finally he managed to twist his wrist and work the bandage open. Pressing it over the wound's surface, he elicited a hiss of pain from Rodney. "Sorry."

"Right." Rodney's voice was terse.

John stood, breathing lightly through the protest from his ribs. He took another shallow breath and stepped over Rodney so he could kneel and look at Rodney's broken arm. "We need to get that set." He allowed some compassion into his expression as Rodney clenched his jaw and nodded slightly.

"Why couldn't this be you? You handle pain much better than I do. I hate pain."

John carefully ran his hand under Rodney's wrist and slowly moved his arm into a position where he could set it. "And I don't?" he commented absently in response to Rodney's hiss.

"You're… military…." Rodney clenched his teeth. "You're… used to it."

John subtly tightened his grip on Rodney's wrist. "I swear, McKay, you and your ideas about soldiers." He shook his head. "Besides, you wouldn't have the stomach to do this."

"Now wait just a min…."

John quickly and firmly pulled Rodney's wrist and twisted. He clenched his teeth, trying to tune out Rodney's loud, agonized scream.

Rodney's yell died out, replaced by labored pants that were punctuated with grunts.

John held firmly to Rodney's wrist. "Take it easy, it's over." With his free hand, he grabbed the first splint and placed it, securing the top with the roll of bandage wrap. "Deep breaths. You're gonna be all right."

"Don't… do that… again," Rodney gasped.

John pursed his lips and secured the bottom of the splint. No matter how pissed he was at Rodney, he still felt compassion. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that under the circumstances, Rodney had taken his arm being set pretty well. "I won't. Promise." He grabbed the other splint and repeated the process, before sitting back and nodding in satisfaction. He took a moment to lay a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "We're done, Rodney."

Rodney's eyes never opened. "Good," he said quietly.

John clicked his radio call button. "Beckett, this is Sheppard. It's done."

"Aye, good." Beckett responded. "How is he?"

John watched Rodney for a moment before answering. "He's conscious, but not really up to talking at the moment."

"Copy that," Carson responded. "Watch him, Colonel and check in with me routinely. Oh, and it's best if he stays conscious."

John sighed. "Copy that."

"Colonel?" Teyla's voice broke in. "The engineering teams should be arriving soon. We will contact you when we know something."

John nodded to himself. 'Tell them to get a move on it," he replied.

"I will do so, Teyla out."

"Sheppard out." John reached up and switched off the light on his P-90, plunging them back into darkness.

"What? What happened?"

Rodney's voice reached John's ears. "Nothing, just saving the battery." He sat down and leaned his head against a piece of rubble. "Feeling better?"

"As opposed to feeling like you were tearing my arm off? Yes." Annoyance returned to Rodney's tone.

"Sorry. There's no nice way to do that," John responded. He heard Rodney's shallow sigh.

"I know."

"But hey," John brightened, "the cavalry's comin'. Shouldn't be too long now."

"Then why did you turn off your light?" Rodney immediately answered.

"Dunno, must be the soldier in me," John quipped lightly.

"Funny."

Rodney's halfhearted reply put a worried crease in John's brow. His voice sounded flat, and the general tone of apathy didn't reassure John of the stability of Rodney's condition one bit. He let the silence linger a few minutes before lifting his head off the rubble he'd rested it on. "Look, McKay, Doc seems to think it's a good idea if you stay awake and talk to me."

"Yeah, well, Carson's a worrier," Rodney responded. "Besides, we don't have much to talk about these days."

John frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Please. Ever since Arcturus you haven't said two words to me… well out side of official business and this…."

John sighed, his pent-up anger pushing against his control. "Now's not the time for that, Rodney."

"Oh really? When is it the time? When we're back on Atlantis and you're avoiding me again? That is, if we even survive!"

"We're going to survive!" John raised his voice slightly. "Now knock it off!" He took a deep breath, grunting quietly as his ribs protested. He let his head fall back against the rubble behind him, wincing as his scabbed over wound met hard stone. He fought the low boil of his anger. McKay was reading the situation right and, inside, John knew it. Ever since Arcturus, he **had** been avoiding Rodney, not wanting to face the loss of trust he was struggleing with.

Carson's warning pierced John's thoughts.

… _It's best if he stays conscious… _

"McKay?" John ventured quietly.

"What?"

John's brows furrowed at Rodney's short reply. "Just checkin' if you're still awake."

"Present." Rodney snapped.

John shook his head, relatively sure that one word replies from Rodney wasn't what Carson had in mind. He grimaced. "Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you." Silence lingered for a moment before Rodney responded.

"Huh. That's surprising."

John lifted his head. "What are you talking about?"

"You've been short with me ever since…. Well, why should this be any different?"

John gritted his teeth. "What do you want from me, McKay?"

"How about a chance to make up for my mistake?"

John's retort died on his lips. He lowered his head and remained silent. Sure, he was pissed, but the more John thought about it, the more he realized that his anger was more directed at himself than Rodney. But, he realized, he'd done a fair good job of taking that anger out on Rodney. For a moment, Rodney's insight surprised John. Then Rodney's voice grabbed his attention.

"It really is irresistible to me," Rodney said quietly.

John's brows furrowed. "What?"

"Technology… the opportunity for learning. You know, quest for knowledge stuff. I've always found it irresistible."

John's quiet grunt was non-committal. _No kidding, McKay. You nearly got us killed over it…. Well, that and your damn ego…._

"I need to know things, to understand things," Rodney continued, "to be able to explain anything. I just… I have to."

"Like Project Arcturus?" John ventured.

Rodney's voice grew quiet. "Especially Project Arcturus."


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth leaned back against the conference room table. "I want options." She glanced at Major Carlisle, a dark-haired engineer from the Daedelus, as he sighed quietly.

"Dr. Weir, we won't know anything until we get there and can assess the situation."

Elizabeth nodded. "How long until you're ready to go?"

"We're gathering equipment and personnel from here and the Daedalus, ma'am," Carlisle answered. "Fifteen minutes, tops."

Elizabeth glanced at Colonel Caldwell. "I'd love the assistance of the Daedalus, if this planet wasn't on the other side of the galaxy."

Caldwell nodded in agreement. "I'd help, but it'd take us six days in hyperspace to get there."

Elizabeth sighed. "Given Carson's preliminary report on Rodney's condition, and the fact they have little water or supplies, I doubt Rodney or even John would last that long." Her attention was diverted by Zelenka's voice coming over the city PA system.

"Dr. Weir? Supplies loaded into Jumper four. Personnel will go through on foot. We're all ready."

"Thank you, Radek," Elizabeth responded. She looked at Major Carlisle. "Get moving Major."

Carlisle nodded once, curtly. "Ma'am." He left the room, heading straight for the gateroom.

"Dr. Weir?"

Elizabeth looked at Caldwell as he walked up next to her.

"We were scheduled to leave for Earth tomorrow. I'm postponing that indefinitely in case we can be of assistance here."

Elizabeth smiled slightly. "Thank you, Colonel." She held his gaze for a moment as he returned her small smile.

"You're welcome."

Elizabeth watched him exit the conference room. In some ways his offer surprised her. There had been tension between the two of them from day one, mostly because she was in command of Atlantis, and he wasn't. Yet, she reluctantly admitted, the more she'd worked with him, the more she could see that, behind the stoic and sometimes abrasive mask, Caldwell was a fair officer, and even a good man who wanted to do the right thing. He was just more by the book than she was used to…. Elizabeth chuckled quietly. Compared to John, just about anyone was more by the book. Yet, she pondered, officers like John seemed to thrive in the SGC, where thinking outside the rules was a daily occurrence. Her smile faded as her thoughts dwelt on John, and on Rodney too. She took a moment to pull her own concern under control, before leaving the conference room.

_------------------------------- _

"Oh God."

John fumbled for his P-90 and quickly turned on the light. He squinted, before fixing a concerned look on Rodney. "McKay?" Despite his worry, he was glad to hear Rodney's voice. Ever since their last conversation, Rodney had fallen quiet, giving one word answers in spite of John's efforts to get him to talk.. John had been on the verge of verbally prodding Rodney again to make sure he was still conscious when Rodney spoke.

"What if…? What if this collapse is air tight? We could suffocate." Rodney's scared voice broke.

John sighed. "McKay." He looked around before fixing gazes with Rodney again. "Look at the size of this room. We're not going to suffocate any time soon."

"But, it could take them a long time to get to us. I mean days…."

Short tempered and irritated, John sat straight up. "Damn it, McKay," he interrupted. "You're more likely to bleed to death first!" Lightheaded from moving so fast, John closed his eyes, all the while berating himself for his outburst. Plastering an understanding and confident look on his face, he stared Rodney in the eye again. "You're going to be fine, we both are. I'll make sure of that." He watched Rodney swallow hard before nodding slightly.

"Right."

John's brows furrowed at the lack of confidence in Rodney's voice. He briefly took in Rodney's pale face, and the light sheen of sweat that covered it. He pressed his lips into a thin line. He recognized the early onset of shock when he saw it. Trying to lighten things up some, he gently teased. "Right. Have I ever let you down?" He found a small smile.

Rodney looked away. "Never. That's the problem."

John sighed loudly and settled back against the rubble. "McKay…."

"You're some damn hero, Colonel," Rodney interrupted quietly.

John flipped off the P-90 light. "No, I'm not."

"Oh. Humble. That just makes you all the more heroic, you know that?" Cynicism colored Rodney's voice.

John felt his irritation rising again. "Rodney…!"

"Colonel 'I Can Do No Wrong'…."

John ground his teeth. "I've made my fair share of mistakes."

"Damn right you have," Rodney spat.

"Rodney!" John retorted, "What…?"

"Just shut up!" Rodney interrupted. "I'm probably going to die here, and I'm not going to go without telling you exactly what I think! I'm through pussyfooting around with you, Sheppard!"The final word was swallowed in a grunt of pain.

John arched his brows, both shocked by Rodney's harsh words, and impressed he had the guts to air them. "You're not going to die," he finally managed.

"Whatever!" Rodney snapped. "You've made your mistakes, Colonel, but I don't see anyone deciding to remove you from command, refusing to trust you, or treating you any differently. I make one small mistake…."

"Small?" John interrupted, "you destroyed two thirds of a solar system!"

"Five sixths!" Rodney objected. "And you woke up the entire population of the Wraith!"

John's reply died on his lips. He sat in silence, Rodney's words sinking in. Was his mistake any less severe? Yet, in the year and a half since he'd done it, never once had he been made to pay for it… not by anyone but himself anyway. "You're right," John admitted quietly.

"Damn straight," Rodney responded.

"McKay." John added a tone of warning to his voice, cautioning Rodney not to push this too far. He softened his expression slightly at Rodney's acquiescing sigh.

"Right."

"Colonel Sheppard?" Teyla's voice crackled across both John and Rodney's radios.

John tapped his earpiece. "Go ahead, Teyla."

"Dr. Zelenka, Major Carlisle and the engineering team are here, along with personnel from Atlantis and the Daedalus, to assist in the rescue."

John squinted in confusion. "Major Carlisle?"

A new voice broke in over the radio. "Army Corps of Engineers, sir. Assigned to the Daedalus to study the architecture of Atlantis."

John nodded slightly. "Glad to have you here, Major."

"Glad to be here, sir. Just wish the circumstances were better," Carlisle responded.

"You'll get no argument from me, Major," John replied.

"If we're done with the mutual butt kissing, can we please get around to figuring out how to get us out of here?" Rodney interrupted crossly.

"Obviously Rodney's still lucid," Carson's slightly amused voice cut in. "How is he otherwise, Colonel?"

John hesitated, briefly considering that Rodney was privy to the conversation. "About how you'd expect him to be, Doc. I don't think the bleeding on his leg has stopped. He's a bit pale and sweaty as well."

"Oh, for god's sake," Rodney interrupted sharply. "What the colonel is clumsily **not** telling you is that I'm in the early stages of shock!"

John's arched brow was the only thing that broke his deadpan expression. "He's in the early stages of shock, Carson," he repeated dryly.

"Aye." Carson's helpless frustration was evident even over the radio.

"Major, any ideas how to get us out of here?" John asked.

"Just starting to work that out, sir," Carlisle responded. "What's left of this structure is pretty unstable. We're going to have to do this carefully so we don't bring the rest of it down on you."

"That'd be good," John quipped wryly.

"Can we not use the Jumper to get to the roof and cut through from there?" Teyla's voice came over the radio.

"Probably not," Carlisle responded. "It's a dome shaped roof. Cutting into it anywhere will make it structurally unstable. It's likely to come down on them if we try."

"Okay, that's not what I call a good plan," Rodney interrupted.

"What about using a drone and blasting through to them?" Ronon offered.

"Oh right! The most powerful weapon in two galaxies, and you want to fire it on an unstable structure!" Rodney snapped, "Do you snap the legs off chairs in your free time?"

"Rodney!" John cut him off and turned his attention to Ronon. "I think what McKay is trying to say, Ronon, is there's no way we can control the explosive power of a drone."

"Dr. McKay is right," Carlisle responded. "It looks like we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way and tunnel through to you, Colonel. We'll keep you apprised of our progress. Carlisle, out."

_------------------------------- _

"Remind me to break both of McKay's legs when we get him out of this." Ronon grumbled.

"He's injured, trapped and in shock," Carson said placatingly. "I don't expect he'd be on his best behavior."

"He doesn't sound any different to me," Ronon muttered.

"Aye," Carson sighed.

"Let's get at it," Carlisle interrupted. "We got a hell of a lot of work ahead of us to reach them, and probably not a lot of time to do it."

_------------------------------- _

"Well, you see, Rodney? We're going to be out of here in no time." John settled back against the rubble again.

"Right. It could take them days to reach us, Colonel."

"McKay, for once in your life can you drop the pessimist act?" John sighed in irritation.

"Acknowledging the truth doesn't make me a pessimist."

"It does when you know damn well that at the same time they could get to us within hours as well," John shot back.

"Turn on the light for a second," Rodney suddenly insisted.

John furrowed his brows at the abrupt change of subject. "What? Why?"

"I need to see something. Turn it on." Rodney's voice grew urgent.

John flipped on the light of the P-90 and squinted.

"Point it at the ceiling, not me!" Rodney snapped.

John obliged, before glancing at Rodney's intense expression. "What?" He sat up straighter as Rodney's expression fell. "What?" John repeated.

"Let me see the pillar," Rodney whispered.

John sighed and lowered the light to the pillar trapping Rodney's legs. The serious look on Rodney's face was doing nothing to bolster John's confidence. "What is it?"

"Go left." Rodney waved with his good hand.

John panned left, his light settling on a large vertical column. His light scanned down its length, stopping as he reached the base. Originally, the two columns, the one trapping Rodney and the one still vertical, had stood next to each other, supporting the domed ceiling. When the short, flat ceilings that surrounded the dome had collapsed, they'd taken one of the columns with them. That column now trapped McKay. But what worried him most was what he was staring at now. When the column had collapsed, it ha fallen against the other column, displacing part of its base so that the upper section now rested on the column trapping Rodney. Like a puzzle, the pieces fell together in John's mind. He stared at it a second before realization dawned on him. "That's…."

"Yes," Rodney whispered. "It's a weight-bearing column and it's really unstable. We move the one covering me and shift that column even slightly, this whole place is going to come down on us."

John clenched his jaw as he ran the light upwards to the ceiling. Rodney was right. The column tilted at an alarming rate before it intersected the ceiling. It seemed to be supporting the dome, but barely. Even from the ground, John could see a sizable crack that split the dome above him. One false move by any of them and the entire structure was going to come down squarely on Rodney.

"I'm trapped," Rodney whispered. "There's no way you can get me out."

John pursed his lips before shining the light back down at Rodney. "Stop it," he scolded lightly. "We're going to find a way to get you out of here. I promise."

"Don't you get it?" Rodney's voice cracked. He slapped the palm of his uninjured hand on the solid pillar covering his legs. "There's no way you can move this! Not without bringing everything down on me!"

"That's what the engineers are for," John reassured. "Calm down, Rodney. You're going to be fine."

"Yeah, right," Rodney responded quietly.

John tapped his radio call button. "Carlisle, this is Sheppard."

"This is Carlisle. Go ahead, Colonel."

John sighed. "We have a bit of a problem here. The column pinning McKay is lodged under another column that appears to be a load-bearing one. It's propped up against the ceiling. We move it, the whole thing comes down."

There was a long pause before Carlisle responded. "Understood, Colonel. We still have to get to you before we can do anything. We'll figure that one out when we get there."

"Copy that, Major, Sheppard out."

John stared at Rodney's brooding and dark expression. He sat back and thought for a moment, before smiling slightly. _He needs a distraction, and we need him to think…. _"Rodney, we could probably get limited power back in here. That has to be worth something. Time to use that big brain of yours and come up with an idea."

"I should be on the outside thinking, not in here." Rodney groused quietly.

John arched his brows at Rodney's normal-sounding complaint. "Look on the bright side."

"There's a bright side?" Rodney's voice was slightly surprised.

"Sure. You're in here. You have first-hand knowledge of exactly what the situation is. That has to be helpful." John pointed out.

"Somehow I find that less than comforting," Rodney muttered.

John chuckled slightly, before wincing and groaning softly as his ribs protested. He slowly stood, grabbing his P-90 as he walked towards the shattered console.

"What are you doing?" Rodney inquired.

John panned his light around the area near the console. "Scavenging." His smile was small as he pushed some rubble aside and recovered Rodney's discarded data pad. He tapped the power button and nodded to himself as the display flickered before turning on. Cracked in multiple places, the display was challenging to read, but surprisingly enough the pad still functioned. "This could help." He turned and walked back towards Rodney.

"What?" Rodney's eyes widened as John crouched and propped the data pad up on Rodney's chest. "You've got to be kidding me. It still works?"

"A little hard to read, but yes," John answered. "Think you can do anything?"

"A little hard to read?" Rodney repeated, his tone annoyed, "I'll be lucky to make heads or tails of anything on this display."

"Can you use it or not?" John's voice rose slightly.

"Well, yes. I think I can. But it does me no good if it's not connected to the console." Rodney leaned forward slightly, groaning as he jostled his ribs and his arm. "Crap…."

John placed a hand on his shoulder. "Easy. What do you need?"

"There's… there's a CAT cable in the back pocket of my vest. I don't know if it's long enough though."

John nodded. He slowly helped Rodney sit forward before fishing around in his vest pocket. "It's not far to the console. Worth a shot." He pulled the cable out, connected it to the data pad and stood. "Looks long enough." He walked towards the console, uncoiling the cable as he went and smiled at the excess in his hand when he stopped and looked down at the controls. "It's long enough. What do I do now?"

"It's not like you're going to find a network jack in the console," Rodney replied, "you're going to have to splice it directly into the main system wiring."

John sighed. "Right… and where is that?"

"Great," Rodney muttered. "Okay, let me walk you through it."

_------------------------------- _

John shut out the protests from his ribs as he twisted and grabbed the circuit Rodney indicated. "Got it."

"Okay, you should be able to connect directly to that."

"Right," John grunted. "Try it now." A sudden spark of electricity shocked his hand and he jumped back, landing hard on his backside. "OW!" His outburst irritated his ribs and he tightened his arm around them. "Damn it!"

"What?" Rodney's voice cut through John's pain. "What happened?"

"I got shocked!" John managed through clenched teeth.

"Shocked? There shouldn't be any power…. Wait, where are you? What section?" Rodney prompted.

John held tight to his side and blinked hard. "One section down from where you had me make the last connection."

"One? That's a power grid! What are you doing there? You should be two sections down, not one!" Rodney snapped.

"You told me to go down one section and connect." John's frustration filled his voice.

"Two! Two!" Rodney's voice rose in volume. "Not one! Two! How can you mistake two for one?"

"You said one!" John's shout trailed off into a pained grunt as stars filled his vision and dizziness swept over him. Pain stabbed him in the chest. "Ow.…"

"Colonel?" Rodney's voice instantly lowered.

John closed his eyes, pushing down a lump in his throat and the nausea that went with it.

"Colonel!"

There was a panicked edge to Rodney's voice. John forced himself to reassure him. "I'm… okay." He took a couple tentative breaths and pushed away his frustration.

"Good, because I really don't need you passing out or something…." Rodney's voice trailed off.

"I'm fine, Rodney." John scooted back to the console. "Second section down, right?"

"Right," Rodney responded quietly.

John made the connection. "Try it."

"That's it," Rodney responded. "I'm in."

John edged away and slowly stood. He carefully made his way back over to Rodney and knelt next to him. He stared at the display. "How's it look?" After a moment's silence, John glanced at Rodney. His frown deepened as he noted the way Rodney's glassy eyes were focused on the data pad but his gaze seemed a million miles away. "Hey." John nudged Rodney's good shoulder. "Hey! Focus, McKay."

Rodney blinked and inhaled. "Right." He squinted and stared hard at the display. "I should be able to return at least partial power…. Oh, this is interesting."

John's gaze narrowed as he scrutinized the display. "What?"

"This base has a shield generator." Rodney blinked as he looked away for a moment.

John watched him, all too familiar with the thoughtful look on Rodney's face. "McKay?" he prompted.

Rodney's expression turned slightly satisfied as he looked at John. "How would you like to get out of here sooner rather than later?"

John arched his brows. "That'd be nice. What's your idea?"

"I think I can re-route enough power for shield capabilities," Rodney responded.

"Wait," John interrupted. "Shields take a lot of power. The last time you restored full power, you shook this place apart."

"Who said anything about full power?" Rodney retorted. "With partial power I can establish a small shield, more of a bubble, around you and me. Then Carlisle and the engineers can cut through the roof and it won't matter if the dome collapses. We'll be protected. Then it's just a matter of moving back enough rubble for me to lower the shield safely."

John nodded his head towards the weight-bearing column. "What about that?" His eyes narrowed as Rodney blinked hard and was silent for a moment, his gaze distant. "Rodney?"

Rodney's eyes widened slightly. "Yes. That. It's possible in the ensuing collapse that it won't be an issue anymore. And if it is, we have the shield to protect us when it's moved."

"Providing the shield works," John muttered.

"Well, there is that…." Rodney's voice trailed off.

John stared hard at Rodney. "How sure are you that this will even work? That the shield could take the pounding you're talking about?"

"Sure!" Rodney's expression fell slightly. "Well, relatively…."

John's expression turned cynical. "Relatively?" He sighed, his gaze traveling over Rodney's face. He noted the pallor and light sweat, and for a moment honestly questioned Rodney's current state of mind. He tried to convince himself that it was the only reason for his hesitation, but deep down, he knew that wasn't true.

_You've made your mistakes, Colonel, but I don't see anyone deciding to remove you from command, refusing to trust you or treating you any different…_

John sighed. Just who was he refusing to forgive? Rodney for doing what he did, or himself for letting him? Darkly, John realized it was a little bit of both.

"I can do this," Rodney said confidently. He looked away from John as his voice turned uncharacteristically sincere. "I know I don't have any right to ask this again, but," Rodney looked back at John and stared him square in the eye, "trust me."

John silently looked away, the plea echoing in his head. Rodney's injuries and possibly-impaired judgment immediately jumped to the front of his mind, but deeper, under that, John could feel the real reason for his hesitation. Unbidden, his thoughts turned to the last time Rodney had asked John to trust him….

_I have never asked this of you before, but I think I've earned it. Trust me._

The biting pain of betrayal and distrust cramped his gut. Every fiber of his being wanted to look Rodney square in the eyes and tell him in no uncertain terms what he thought about trust, betrayal and nearly getting them both killed for his damn ego. John pulled in one breath, and then another, and it was a long moment before that wave of anger and hurt passed, leaving conflict in its wake. He'd already had to prompt Rodney twice to concentrate, most likely an effect of his injuries. Rodney's condition was steadily deteriorating and John knew that unless he got Rodney some help, he'd likely not survive longer than a few hours at the most. They were deep inside the building, and if the collapse was widespread, there was no way Carlisle's team would make it to them in time.

He sighed. All the conflict inside him was instantly quelled by his unswerving dedication to his team and their safety. No matter what Rodney had done, he was still a member of his team, and that took precedence over anything else, including his own safety.

"Colonel?"

John looked back at Rodney and nodded. "Get on it." He reached up and grabbed his radio. "Carlisle this is Sheppard."

"Go ahead, sir," Carlisle answered.

"McKay thinks he can splice enough power together to raise a small shield over us. With that, you can cut through the roof. Any collapse won't hurt us."

"A shield? How?" Zelenka's voice cut into the transmission.

"Radek," Rodney responded. "This place has a shield generator. It's just a matter of getting enough power to it, without restoring full power in the process."

"Oh, that is all?" Zalenka's voice sounded unconvinced. "Rodney, you are injured. That is very complicated adaptation you are talking about."

"Please!" Rodney retorted, "I could do this in my sleep."

"Healthy, yes," Radek answered.

"Sir," Carlisle entered the conversation again, "if this doesn't work, we'll most likely kill you and Dr. McKay if we try to go through the roof."

John stared for a long moment at Rodney before nodding once. "Understood Major. McKay knows what he's doing. We'll advise you when we're ready. Sheppard out."

_------------------------------- _

"I do not like this." Radek shook his head and looked at Major Carlisle.

"Is what Rodney saying even possible?" Teyla asked.

"Theoretically, yes." Radek's voice was hesitant. "But is very complicated."

"We have to consider that Rodney's condition could be impairing his judgment," Carson added. "He's suffering from trauma and blood loss. That will affect his cognitive abilities, if it hasn't already."

"Sheppard seems to think he can do it," Ronon added.

"The Colonel thought Rodney could control Project Arcturus as well," Carson rebutted, "and look what happened there."

"Carson?" For the first time, Elizabeth's voice broke in over the radio. "Is it possible that Colonel Sheppard's judgment is impaired as well?"

Carson sighed. "Aye, 'tis possible, but I don't know for sure. He seemed lucid enough, and assured me his injuries were minor."

"This is John Sheppard we're talking about, Carson." Elizabeth's voice was slightly cynical.

"Aye," Carson agreed. "With Rodney injured he may be downplaying his injuries, but I think it's unlikely he has impaired judgment. He's been too lucid and level-headed."

"We all know Rodney's confidence in his abilities has never been his problem," Elizabeth continued. "The question is: do we let him do this and do we go along with it?"

"Ma'am," Carlisle was the first to respond. "Judging by the rate of our current progress in digging our way to them, it's going to be at least twenty four hours before we'll reach them, barring any unforeseen complications."

"The Colonel could probably last that long, but I doubt Rodney could," Carson stated. "Between the trauma and bleeding that we can't stop until that column is moved, Rodney has at most six hours. At the very least, he'll bleed to death long before we reach him with our current method."

"Then we need an alternative," Elizabeth stated firmly. "Is it possible Colonel Sheppard reached the same conclusion but didn't say anything because he didn't want Rodney to hear it?"

"Aye," Carson answered. "The Colonel's a career soldier, and has a fair bit of medical knowledge, especially combat trauma, which isn't too dissimilar to this." Carson sighed. "He probably knows."

"Radek?" Elizabeth questioned, "can you patch me through to Colonel Sheppard?"

"Yes. One moment," Radek responded.

_------------------------------- _

Elizabeth's grip on the control deck railing tightened as she stared at the shimmering wormhole, waiting for her radio signal to be sent to John.

"Go ahead, Dr. Weir," Radek finally responded.

"John?" Elizabeth asked tentatively.

"Elizabeth," John responded immediately. "I'd ask how things are, but I think they're probably better with you than me."

Elizabeth smiled slightly at his attempt to lighten the conversation. "Probably. We're a bit worried about you and Rodney though."

"Aren't you the one that's supposed to be telling me that everything is going to be fine?" John quipped.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Chalk it up to my bad bedside manner."

"That's okay. I'm not in a bed anyway," John's voice was slightly humored. "Look, Rodney's got a plan to get us out of here a bit sooner than expected."

"I heard." She sighed. "John, are you sure about this?" She unconsciously held her breath while she waited for him to break the silence.

"McKay's sure it'll work."

She heard the forced note of reassurance in his voice, as if he sensed her hesitation. "Rodney is always sure his plans will work," Elizabeth countered, knowing that, at some level, John recognized that.

"They usually do," John insisted.

"But not always," Elizabeth pressed the issue. "John, I know Rodney can hear you, so just say yes or no. Carson thinks that Rodney may not have more than six hours at the most to be rescued. Is that true?"

"Yes." John bit off the last word tersely.

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment. "He's still bleeding?"

"Yes."

She sighed deeply and looked down at her white-knuckled grip on the railing. The one-word answers he was giving her did nothing to reassure her he was all that confident in this plan. It felt more like he was taking the only choice they had.

As if he could read her mind, John's quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. "Elizabeth. This is the only way." John's voice now held a note of confidence as if he knew he had to convince her somehow.

Elizabeth swallowed hard, her mind racing for options that weren't there. After a moment, she nodded to herself. "Okay. You have a go." She looked up at the active Stargate. "Be safe. Both of you."

"We will. Sheppard out."

"Major Carlisle?" Elizabeth questioned.

"Ma'am?"

"Major, you have a go on Dr. McKay's plan. Keep me apprised. Weir out." She watched as the wormhole disengaged and the Stargate went dark. Her gaze fixed on the inactive gate and it was a long time before she moved.

_------------------------------- _

John silently watched Rodney work. He seemed lucid for the moment, but there was no denying the pallor of his face. Slowly, John stood, stepped over Rodney and knelt. He opened one of his vest pockets, the loud rip of Velcro catching Rodney's attention.

"What are you doing?" Rodney stared at John.

John pulled his last bandage from his vest pocket. "Checking your bandage."

"Like there's much you can do," Concern briefly crossed Rodney's face.

John sighed but kept his expression confident. "Humor me, okay?" Setting the bandage on top of the column that pinned Rodney's legs, but still well within reach, he ran his arm under the pillar. For a moment, he was glad his face was turned away, because he couldn't hide his frustrated grimace when his hand met the warm stickiness of blood. He clenched his teeth, biting off an irritated outburst, and forced his expression neutral again. He grabbed the bandage, before once again squeezing his arm under the column. Hesitant to destroy any clotting present, he opted to leave the original bandage in place, and instead laid the new one over the top. He pushed down gently, evoking a hiss from Rodney. "Sorry," he muttered.

"What are you doing?" Rodney snapped.

"Trying to slow the bleeding some." John winced as another spike of pain shot through his chest. He looked around for a minute. _If there was some way to apply pressure…._ His eye caught on a flat, square piece of rubble. He smiled slightly. "Rodney, I have an idea."

"For what?" Rodney eyed him suspiciously.

"We need to get some pressure on this wound." John reached over with his free hand and dragged the square piece of rubble to him. "I'm going to put this under your leg. That should push the wound against the pillar and put some direct pressure on it. I need you to lift your leg as best you can."

"You have what, four inches of clearance? That doesn't give me much room to move my leg," Rodney replied.

"I know, but it may be enough. Work with me here, McKay." John hardened his gaze as he stared at Rodney. "Some pressure will help slow the bleeding."

Rodney's jaw clenched as he swallowed hard before nodding. "Okay."

John repositioned the light on his P-90 and lay down flat on his stomach. He shifted the piece of rubble closer to Rodney's leg. "Lift," he instructed, as he also raised Rodney's leg with one hand while pushing the piece of rubble under it with the other.

Rodney grunted in pain as the thick shield of bandages met the column and pushed down on his wound. "Damn it," he managed through clenched teeth.

"I know," John responded as he maneuvered the rubble into a spot where it would continue to support Rodney's leg. He nodded. "Okay, relax. That should do it." He felt the tension leave Rodney's leg as the scientist let it settle onto the rubble. Satisfied, John gently poked the bandages. They were securely wedged between Rodney's leg and the column. "How does that feel?" he asked.

"Not pleasant," Rodney answered, "but better now that I don't have to hold my leg up."

John nodded and eased back, but as he twisted to sit up, pain shot through his chest. He grunted and squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled in one shallow breath then another. A strong wave of vertigo threatened to steal consciousness from him.

"Colonel?"

Rodney's concerned voice reached John's ears. He nodded slightly, before opening his eyes. "I'm okay. Just twisted wrong." Gingerly, he sat up. He could feel Rodney's eyes on him, so he met the doctor's gaze. "Really. Just a headache and some cracked ribs. That's all. I just moved wrong."

"Right." Rodney stared at him a moment longer before returning his attention to the data pad.

John settled back against the pillar and watched Rodney work. The pain in his side was ebbing, and his stomach wasn't doing flipflops anymore but the experience was fresh in his mind and still strong enough he didn't feel compelled to move much. His mind drifted over their situation. _How do we manage to get into these messes?_ Still, John admitted to himself, for all Rodney's snarks and shortcomings, he couldn't think of anyone better to be stuck here with. _Leave it to McKay to find a way out of this…._

John shook his head slightly. The irony of his current thoughts contrasted against his recent behavior prompted a small, cynical smile. His smile faded as he watched Rodney's head slowly fall forward, his gaze losing focus. John pushed away from the column and poked Rodney's good arm. "Hey."

Rodney's head bobbed. "Huh…?"

"McKay! Snap out of it!" John poked again, this time harder. "Rodney!"

Rodney blinked hard and looked up. "What?" He looked around for a second. "Right. Sorry." His gaze met John's and an understanding look passed between them.

John nodded slightly, realizing Rodney knew all too well exactly what was happening to him. He slid over next to Rodney and looked down at the data pad display. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing?"

"Rewriting subroutines to allow adequate power to flow to the shield generator, and to minimize the shield size." Rodney punched a few keys on the display. "The equations should be right…."

John's gaze narrowed. "Should?"

"Well how do I know? I can't read this data pad clearly." Rodney pointed at an equation, its values garbled by a large crack. "That six could be a five… but I'm pretty sure it's a six."

"And if it's a five?" John asked cautiously.

"Then we're screwed." Rodney winced and refused to look at John.

"Great," John's voice cracked slightly.

_------------------------------- _

Elizabeth gently tapped the call button on her radio as Carlisle's voice hailed her. "This is Weir. Go ahead, Major."

"Ma'am, we're ready on this end to execute Dr. McKay's plan. I still have teams trying to dig their way through to Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay's position, but its slow going. We're looking at forty-eight hours minimum to reach them that way, barring any complications."

"Given Rodney's condition, that's way too long, Major." Elizabeth fought the cold cramp in her gut. "Rodney's plan is the only viable option."

"Yes, ma'am, it looks that way," Carlisle agreed.

"Keep me updated please," Elizabeth answered. "Anything you need is yours. Whatever you require. Just bring them both home safely."

"Yes, ma'am. Carlisle out."

Elizabeth turned away from the sound of the dissolving wormhole and headed for the exterior door leading to the Deck. As she stepped out into the warm ocean breeze, she took a moment to close her eyes and let it wash over her. Worry came with the territory, for somewhere along the way, her **expedition **had become her **people.** She felt a guardianship to each and every one of them, and was inherently anxious whenever any one of them stepped through that wormhole and into the unknown.

She sighed as she slowly crossed the Deck, and ran a hand through her hair, briefly wondering if her head scientist and her military commander had added any more gray to it. Of all the people on her team, she worried about Sheppard and McKay the most, probably because they seemed to constantly get into trouble. "What is it with you two?" she muttered.

She took brief comfort in the fact that at least they were together. Somehow, through all of their bickering and constant verbal sparring that sometimes was enough to sap even her patience, when push came to shove, the two of them were one heck of a team. If anyone could find a way out of this, they could. Of that she had no doubt.

She rested her hand on the Deck railing and leaned back against one of its support columns. Recently, she couldn't help but notice the trust and companionship between them had been strained. She knew exactly why, and understood the damageto their relationship they both were working through as a result of the devastating failure of Arcturus, but, for all her diplomatic skills, she had no clue how to help them. More than once, she'd fought the urge to sit the two of them down in a room and not let either one of them leave until whatever was wrong between them had been resolved, but she'd always backed away from that option. She knew, deep down, they had to work it out themselves. While this situation was less than pleasant, she hoped that by working together to gett out, something good would come of this fiasco. She shook her head. "John Sheppard, your optimism is rubbing off on me," she whispered.

_------------------------------- _

Rodney blinked hard, forcing his mind to concentrate. _What the hell is my problem? Other than being trapped and slowly bleeding to death…. _ He shook off the thoughts, determined not to let them get in the way of his work. No matter how much Sheppard reassured and placated him, Rodney keenly felt the weight of responsibility. He should've done better, done something… not let this happen.

Rodney never had use for most other people, preferring the solitude and pure logic of science to the tiring and mainly annoying effort of understanding other people. But in spite of that, Rodney knew Sheppard's reassurances were hollow. He felt patronized, but after a moment of irritation, decided he preferred it to the icy treatment Sheppard had graced him with over the last few weeks.

If his damn ribs didn't hurt so much, Rodney would've chuckled at the irony. Dr. Rodney McKay, brilliant scientist and skillful avoider of almost anyone else in his species, actually caring what another person thought of him. But, he did care. Sometimes… and about a precious few people. Jeannie, Samantha Carter, Radek, Elizabeth… Sheppard.

Rodney paused in his typing. _Sheppard_. Just how, exactly, did that cocky, irritating, hotshot, bravado-filled flyboy make it onto his short list? Puzzled, Rodney continued staring blankly at the screen.

"Hey, Rodney?" Sheppard called quietly to him. "McKay?"

The man had an uncanny ability to interrupt his thought processes on a routine basis. Rodney glared in Sheppard's general direction, barely able to make him out in the dim glow cast by the data pad's display. "What?"

"Just making sure you're still with me." Sheppard's voice was unfazed.

"Present," Rodney snapped. His annoyance abruptly dissolved. "But thanks," he muttered. He could practically hear the colonel's smile.

"Sure."

Rodney refocused on the data pad, but his thoughts continued to wander. How did he manage to end up in these messes anyway? Cynicism swept over him again. _Because the best opportunities for discovery usually aren't the easiest to find…._ "Or the safest," he muttered.

"What?" Sheppard asked.

"Nothing." Rodney tapped a few keys. Recognition was something he always strove for. Why, he wasn't really sure. It wasn't as if he really cared what other people thought about him. In spite of that, he wanted to leave his mark. A hundred years from now, he wanted his name to be remembered, his brilliance to mean something, and his discoveries to last. Deep down, Rodney knew that was what drove him to be the best. Maybe it was all ego, but maybe, deep inside, beyond the ego, Rodney knew brilliance was a rare thing… and he hated to see anything so valuable go to waste.

His thoughts touched on Jeannie and anger found a way in. _Speaking of going to waste…._ He pushed aside the frustration at his sister, as his mind jumped from thought to thought… and landed squarely on Arcturus.

A pain that had nothing to do with his injuries swept through him. _Collins._ Collins' death had been a waste, and no matter how many times he replayed the events, he couldn't find a way he could've prevented it. _Dumais, Peterson, Collins…_ he'd lost more people under his leadership since coming to Atlantis than he'd ever thought possible, and each was a waste. They'd all been talented and brilliant scientists, even if he'd never told them so, and yet their deaths had no meaning. They'd been so close with Arcturus…, so close to making it all worth while, maybe even to making Collins' death **mean** something, but, they'd failed…. He'd failed. All his brilliance and he'd still failed….

Rodney pushed back the data pad and shook his head. "Waste…," he muttered, before blinking hard, trying to hang onto his focus.

"McKay?" Sheppard flicked on the light on his P-90. "What is it?"

Rodney let his head fall back hard on the rubble behind him. "Their deaths… waste." He swallowed and closed his eyes as a soft warmth spread through his body.

"Hey!"

Apathetic, Rodney didn't even flinch at the distant, echoing voice in his ears, or the scrambling he heard close by.

"Rodney!"

_That voice again… don't care…._

He felt himself yanked back from oblivion by several not so gentle slaps on his cheek.

"McKay, don't you check out on me!"

Rodney blinked hard, then let his eyes slide shut again. "Or… what?"

"You don't want to know." Sheppard's voice was deep and insistent.

Rodney peeled his eyes open. "Is that… a threat?" He stared at the intense fire burning in the hazel eyes scant inches from his.

"You're damn right it is," Sheppard replied.

Rodney swallowed hard and forced himself to concentrate on the data pad. "Right," he whispered.

"Right," Sheppard echoed him. He slowly scooted away from Rodney and sat back against the rubble. "What deaths were a waste, Rodney?"

Rodney fought to hang onto his clarity, knowing full well Sheppard was blatantly chatty only to keep him awake. "I don't want to talk about it." He glanced up at Sheppard's thoughtful expression and narrowed eyes. Silence sat between them for a moment, as Rodney made the final calculations on the shield and power requirements.

"They all are," Sheppard said quietly. "Every time you lose someone under your command, it's a waste. You always wonder what you could've done differently, even if you couldn't have changed anything."

Rodney looked up and straight into the haunted eyes of someone who knew exactly what he was talking about. "We were so close you know, with Arcturus. At least then Collins' death…" his voice trailed off. He refocused his gaze on the cold, logical calculations, and swallowed hard. "How do you live with it? Losing people?" He glanced up hesitantly.

Sheppard arched a humorless brow. "What choice do you have? You just find a way."

"Right," Rodney turned his head away, shaking off his dark mood. "Somehow that's less than helpful, but I can't imagine why," he snarked.

"There's the McKay I know and hate," Sheppard quipped back.

Rodney glared at Sheppard's faint smile. "Very funny."

_------------------------------- _

John settled back against the rubble, reluctant to turn off his light just yet, as he studied Rodney's haggard expression. He was pale, sweating slightly and glassy eyed, and John wondered just how compromised Rodney's concentration was. Zelenka's words echoed in John's mind.

"_Rodney, you are injured. That is very complicated adaptation you are talking about."_

John sighed quietly and tried to ignore the increasing pain in his ribs. That last twist when he was tending Rodney's leg had done something to his already fragile ribs. He suspected he'd crossed the line from cracked to broken on a couple of them, but fat chance of him saying anything about it until McKay was safe. It was something he could handle if he was careful. For all the snarking and blustering, John knew that just beneath the surface, Rodney was struggling to hang onto consciousness and hope, and fighting down fright and panic every second. John needed to be strong, or at least appear that way, if Rodney were to have any chance of keeping his head through all of this: something that had to happen if either one of them were going to survive. Granted, he could probably survive until Carlisle's team reached him, but Rodney….

_Not an option,_ he resolutely decided. In spite of everything, Rodney was a member of his team, and, he realized, still his friend. He damn sure wasn't going to sit by and helplessly watch him die, even if that meant risking his life on Rodney's plan.

His thoughts lingered on Rodney's recent words.

_"How do you live with it? Losing people?"_

He really wasn't sure of the answer, only that he did manage to go on in spite of it. Every life he lost under his command haunted him, sometimes even waking him at night, but each one of them stoked a fire within him to make that death the last one. He didn't always succeed, but the tenacity of that conviction had saved himself and others under his command more than once. Somehow, he'd found a measure of peace in that.

John knew Rodney didn't understand – hell, he wasn't sure he did –but somehow, he knew Rodney was on the path to finding a way to deal with it. Hurt over Rodney's betrayal of his trust still lingered within John, but it was slowly being tempered with understanding and a feeling of kinship with the scientist. Maybe Collins' death did mean something, if only to show Rodney how and how not to deal with losing someone under your command. He'd sent Collins directly to a situation that had resulted in his death and, John was keenly aware that it was harshly different seeing someone die when, right or wrong, your orders caused it.

Slowly, understanding spread within John. The first time he'd lost someone under his command, he'd made some foolish decisions, not the least of which was trying to resign from service. Only a blunt ass-chewing by his CO, filled with comments about stupidity and going off half-cocked, but ending with sincere words about how losing men unfortunately comes with the territory, had kept him in the military. Yet, when faced with the same situation in Rodney, John had turned away, instead of helping.

John grimaced as he realized Rodney wasn't the only person who'd made a mistake. Irritated at himself more than anything, John wished it hadn't taken something like this to make him realize exactly what was going on. _You're his team leader. Start acting like it._ John smiled slightly, knowing his desire to help Rodney went beyond that. For all his annoying ways, Rodney was his friend, and John had precious few close ones. "Rodney?" he asked quietly. When Rodney looked up at him, John found he couldn't meet the scientist's eyes and looked away.

"What?"

Rodney's voice was slightly annoyed, and John nodded. "Look," he stared at the top of his P-90, "I'm… sorry." He glanced up, meeting Rodney's gaze with a sincere one of his own.

Rodney's eyes narrowed for a moment, before he smiled slightly and nodded. "Me too."

John returned the nod, before inhaling as deep as his ribs would allow and deftly changing the subject. "How's it going?" He tilted his head towards the data pad.

"About done," Rodney responded. He tapped a few more keys on the data pad and looked up again. "I'm ready... Well, as ready as I'll ever be."

John sat up and took a moment to stare hard at Rodney, before he pushed down the indecision that had tried to take hold of him. He tapped his headset. "Carlisle, this is Sheppard. We're ready on this end."

"Copy that, Colonel," Major Carlisle responded. "We're set to go here as well."

"Rodney?" Carson's voice broke in. "How're ye doin?"

The silence that followed Carson's question alarmed John. His gaze narrowed at his friend's sheet white face. "McKay?" John poked his good arm.

"Rodney?" Carson repeated, his tone worried. "Colonel?"

John ignored Carson and focused on Rodney. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. "McKay!"

Rodney blinked hard. "What?"

John pointed at his own headset. "Talk to Carson. He wants to know how you're doing."

Annoyed, Rodney sighed and spoke into his radio. "Been better."

John could almost hear Carson nodding. "Aye, hang in there, Rodney. We'll get ye patched up before long."

"Right." Rodney grimaced, a glimmer of his usual dour look returning. "If we're done with the pep talk, can we get on with this? Some of us **don't** have all day."

"What's your plan, Major?" John watched Rodney like a hawk for any signs of him succumbing to unconsciousness.

"Small, focused charge of C-4, sir. I've been up on the dome a couple times now and I think I have the optimal detonation point determined. I think a partial collapse is unavoidable, sir. The trick will be to use enough to make a hole, but not so much we bring the whole structure down on you."

"That'd be good," John answered. "Contact me when you have the charge planted and you're ready. Sheppard out." He slowly scooted over next to Rodney and rested against the rubble. He looked down at his friend's sweaty face. "You holdin' up okay?" he asked, in a quiet voice.

"Not really..., no."

He thought he'd get a short, snappy answer. In fact, he expected it. The resigned, almost apathetic, tone of Rodney's voice set off all kinds of alarms inside John. "Hey," he lightened his voice some, "come on. We're gonna be out of here before you know it."

"Right," Rodney muttered.

"McKay," John sighed. "What's going through that head of yours?"

"Not much," Rodney managed, his voice slightly slurred. "Hypoglycemia and bleeding don't exactly help the thinking process."

"Damn," John cussed under his breath. Inwardly, he berated himself for not thinking of Rodney's hypoglycemia. _We've been in here, what? Two hours? And McKay's bleeding? Nice going Sheppard!_ He felt around in his TAC vest, smiling as his hand encountered a small lump in one of the pockets. He reached up, tapping his headset as he pulled a Ziploc bag from his vest. "Beckett this is Sheppard. I think Rodney's blood sugar is pretty low. Can I give him something to eat?"

"Aye, Colonel, but not too much."

John held the baggie up in the light from his P-90. He grinned. "How about a chocolate fudge cookie?" He heard Beckett chuckle.

"Aye, that'll be fine."

"Thanks. Sheppard out." He pulled open the bag's zipper top and held the cookie out to Rodney. "McKay. Eat this." His gaze narrowed at the shake in Rodney's hand as he took it.

"I thought the mess was out of these," Rodney muttered.

John shrugged. "Vickie always saves me a couple."

"Vickie?" Rodney's voice was muffled by a mouthful of cookie.

"The assistant cook. You know, the brunette." John smiled slightly.

Rodney swallowed hard. "Her name is Vickie?" His voice cracked slightly, "I didn't know that.…"

John's brows quirked and his smile turned smug. "All you had to do was ask."

"I did!" Rodney's gaze turned sour. "She never gives me the time of day."

John chuckled slightly. "She told me her name the first time I asked her."

"Naturally." Rodney took another bite. He glared at John. "What is it with you anyway?"

John just smiled as he thought about the lithe cook busily striding from one side of the mess to another... stretching up to reach a high cabinet... "She doesn't look like a mess cook," he noted absently.

"Yeah," Rodney snorted quietly. "Never met a school lunch lady who looked like **that.**"

John's smile lingered as he glanced down, watching Rodney finish the cookie. "Me either."


	3. Chapter 3

Ronon curbed his frustration as he stared out the front window of the Jumper. The pilot, Miller, was holding stationary about twenty feet above the large dome, while Major Carlisle, seated in the co-pilot seat, made final adjustments to the remote detonator in his hands. Behind him, Carson sighed quietly, his expression impatient.

"You are sure this will work?"

Ronon glanced for a moment at Teyla, nodding his silent agreement to her question, before he followed her gaze to Carlisle.

Carlisle sighed. "Blow a hole in the dome? Yes. Not bring the whole thing down on them? No."

"That's what the shield is for, isn't it?" Carson interjected.

"As long as it works." Weir's voice came over the radio, reminding all of them she was in on the conversation.

"McKay thinks it will," Ronon muttered quietly. He knew they were betting a lot on McKay's theory being right, but in the time he'd been with the team, Ronon had seen McKay be right more often than not. But, when he was wrong... he was really wrong... Ronon ground his teeth in frustration. _Should've gone with them..._

"Let's hope so." Carlisle activated the jumper's com system. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Carlisle."

"Go ahead, Major," Sheppard immediately responded.

"Charge is place, sir. I'm shooting for a four to five foot hole, but it'll probably collapse to be larger than that. With any luck, we won't lose the whole structure." Carlisle straightened in his seat. "We're as ready as we'll ever be."

"Understood. Activating shield now," Sheppard answered. "Stand by, Major."

"Standing by." Carlisle glanced at the pilot. "Miller, back us off a bit."

As the jumper eased back from the center of the dome, Ronon stared at the small charge of C-4 firmly attached to its apex. He glanced at Teyla, seeing the worry he felt mirrored in her face.

"I am sure this will work," she reassured him, but behind her smile, her expression betrayed her reservations.

"Yeah," Ronon nodded.

"Carlisle, this is Sheppard. Shield is up. We're a go."

"Copy that, sir." Carlisle took a deep breath. "Stand by... fire in the hole." Decisively, Carlisle flipped the safety and punched the trigger firmly.

A slight vibration shook the jumper as a puff of dust and debris plumed up before them. As the dust cleared, a small hole appeared in the dome.

"That did it," Carlisle smiled.

Ronon felt a smile pull at his mouth as well, but it was short lived as his eyes caught on a wide expanding crack. "Look!" he pointed.

"Damn it!" Carlisle smacked his headset. "Colonel, keep the shield up, there's a secondary collapse forming."

"Copy that. How bad?" Sheppard responded.

Ronon's gaze, along with everyone else's, fixed on the engineer.

Carlisle sighed, frustration clear on his face. "I don't know. It's..." His voice trailed off as a large chunk of the dome suddenly broke free. "There it goes!"

----------------------

John crouched close to Rodney and stared up at the small stream of daylight, slightly distorted by the shimmering shield around them. The daylight grew as a wide crack allowed more sunlight in.

"It worked," Rodney muttered.

"Not quite..." John's eyes followed the crack's progress. "Rodney? How's the shield?"

Rodney's movements were lethargic as he pushed a couple keys. "Fine... I think...," he mumbled.

John's gaze slowly shifted down to Rodney. "You **think**?" The words no sooner left his mouth when Carlisle's warning shout came over both their radios.

"_There it goes!"_

John's head shot up, his eyes widening at the massive piece of rubble falling straight towards them. Not sparing a moment to think, John just reacted. He threw himself over the top of Rodney as a crash deafened him.

-----------------------------

"Crap." Carson's whisper was the first noise to break the stifling silence that had fallen over the jumper.

Ronon grabbed his radio. "Sheppard, this is Ronon, do you copy?" He glanced around at the silence that greeted his hail.

"Miller, get us closer." Carlisle's voice was low and solemn as he slowly stood. His gaze narrowed as he tried to see through a cloud of dust and debris. He activated the jumper's com. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Carlisle, please respond."

When silence again was the only answer, Ronon had enough. He pushed away from the back of Carlisle's chair that he'd been leaning on. "Get me down there." Rushing past Teyla and Carson, he grabbed a harness and some rope and started gearing up.

"Wait," Weir cut in, the worry and fear in her voice evident, even over the radio. "Major, is the structure stable enough to send anyone in?"

Carlisle sighed. "I have no idea... and there's no way to know until we go down there."

"You can come along," Ronon ordered with more authority than he probably had a right to, "but I'm going one way or the other."

"As am I." Teyla stood and joined Ronon.

"I don't suppose saying no would do any good?" A note of dark humor colored Elizabeth's voice.

"Nope," Ronon responded curtly as he finished buckling a harness around himself.

"Didn't think so." Elizabeth's sigh was clearly audible. "Just... be careful. We don't need anyone else trapped."

"Copy that, ma'am." Carlisle joined Teyla and Ronon. He gave them both a half smile. "I'm going to need to see first hand what's going on down there."

"Ach." Beckett's exclamation grabbed all their attentions. "I'm coming too. Rodney at least, maybe the Colonel too, need immediate medical attention." Carlisle helped him into a harness and looped a stout rope through one of his carabineers while Carson shrugged into his backpack.

"Miller, open the back hatch," Carlisle ordered as they each secured their ropes to the frame of the jumper.

"Crap," Carson whispered as the hatch slowly lowered and they all walked out on it. "I hate heights."

"You ever done anything like this before, Doc?" Carlisle asked.

"Never," Carson swallowed hard.

"Great," Carlisle muttered. "Maybe you should wait...?"

"No!" Carson interrupted. "They need my help." He closed his eyes for a moment, apparently steeling himself against his fears. He opened his eyes. "Now, you find a way to get me down there, and I'll find a way to do it."

Ronon smiled slightly as Carlisle slowly nodded.

"Okay, then," the major agreed, "One of us will have to lower you down. Now isn't the time to give you a crash course on rappelling." He winced. "Bad choice of words."

"Aye!" Carson shot Carlisle a cold look.

"I'm going," Ronon stepped towards the edge.

"Okay," Carlisle agreed. "Ronon, you and Teyla go. I'll lower Beckett down, then follow."

"Works for me." Ronon eased off the edge and started his descent, Teyla not far behind him.

"Piece of cake, Doc," Carlisle reassured. "All you have to do is relax and hold on."

"Easy for you to say," Carson muttered.

---------------------------------

A faint scrabbling noise was the first thing John heard. He slowly opened his eyes, relieved to see the golden hue of the shield, still protecting them. _Good thing it held._ John's gaze fixed on a chunk of rubble, roughly the size of a pickup, that lay close by. _That wasn't there before…._ He looked up at the hole in the dome, before looking back at the matching piece of rubble. He exhaled quietly. Had the shield not been there, both he and McKay would've been crushed.

The scrabbling noise again grabbed his attention, and he looked above him. A smile came to his face as he watched Ronon and Teyla slowly lower themselves through the hole in the dome.

"Excuse me."

John's attention was drawn downward towards the muffled voice that hailed him. "Rodney? You okay?"

Rodney's voice was weak, but still held a note of arrogance. "…Be better if you stopped playing heroics… and got off me." His words were slightly slurred.

John slowly pushed himself up, wincing as his ribs protested. Turning, he sat down facing Rodney, and rested his hands over his knees. He tapped his headset. "Ronon? Teyla? Do you copy?"

"Colonel!" Teyla's voice responded immediately. "Are you alright?"

John waved up at her as she and Ronon continued their descent. "Yeah, we're okay." He looked down at his friend and his smile faded. "Rodney could stand a little attention from Beckett though."

"Colonel," Carson's voice broke in. "Is Rodney conscious?"

"Stand by." John poked his friend. "Rodney?" He poked harder. "Rodney!"

"Wha...? 'M here..."

John pursed his lips. "He keeps fading in and out, Doc. Probably time for a house call."

"Aye, be right down," Carson answered.

"See that?" John again looked down at Rodney. "Cavalry's here."

"Yeah…."

John sighed. Rodney's lucidity was fading rapidly. Staving off the hypoglycemia had helped, but blood loss and injury were catching up with him. John nodded slightly at Ronon and Teyla as they stared through the shield at him, relief evident on both their faces. "Welcome to the party. Sorry about the mess. We're remodeling."

They both smiled at his quip.

John looked up past them, his gaze narrowing as he watched Carson slowly descend through the hole. "He looks a little… tense."

"Yeah," Ronon's gaze followed John's. "He does."

"He has never done anything like this before," Teyla added. "It is understandable that he would not be at ease."

John couldn't tear his gaze from Carson. "Hell of a time to learn," he muttered. A touch of admiration sparked within him. For all his compassion, and good nature, Carson was a tough cookie when he had to be.

John was relieved when, at last, Carson's feet touch the ground. He nudged Rodney and stared at his half closed eyes. "Rodney? Hey, buddy, time to lower that shield."

Rodney's eyelids fluttered. "Wha…?"

"Come on, McKay," John urged quietly, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "Focus. You need to lower the shield."

Rodney inhaled deeply and then whimpered, presumably from his broken ribs, but when he opened his eyes, they were slightly clearer. "Right…." He sluggishly tapped a sequence of keys on his data pad and the shield disappeared abruptly.

John stayed by Rodney's side as Carson hurried over and knelt next to Rodney. He briefly looked at John. "You all right, Colonel?"

John's gaze never left Rodney's semi-conscious face. "Yeah, I'm okay. Rodney…."

"I'm on it." Carson cut John off as he dug around in his bag. Pulling out a stethoscope and BP cuff, he turned back towards his patient. "Rodney? Can ye hear me?"

"Unnnn…." Rodney groaned quietly.

John pursed his lips and looked up at Teyla and Ronon's concerned expressions. He glanced at Carson, who was busy taking Rodney's blood pressure. "Doc?"

"Shh," Carson admonished, and continued listening through his stethoscope. After a tense moment, he deflated the cuff and draped his stethoscope over his shoulders. "90/60. He needs an IV now to bring up his blood volume, and a transfusion when we get back to Atlantis." Carson turned to his pack again.

John smiled slightly as Ronon offered him a water canteen.

"Here."

John took a long pull from the canteen and looked up as Carlisle touched down and freed himself from his line. "Major," John nodded as Carlisle walked towards them. "Good work."

"Thank you, sir. Glad you had the shield though." Carlisle looked up at the underside of the Jumper hovering outside the dome. "Miller. Radio Dr. Weir and the ground teams. Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay are all right, but McKay is still trapped. Give her an update and let her know that we'll pass on more information once we have it." Carlisle looked around, his practiced eye evaluating the rubble. "Colonel, does it look like much shifted?"

John scanned the debris. "Not really." His eyes fell on the weight-bearing column that lay heavily across the beam trapping Rodney's legs. "Especially that." He pointed.

Carlisle's gaze followed John's gesture. He stared for a moment before nodding slowly. "That's a problem."

"How?" Ronon asked.

"We have to move the beam trapping Dr. McKay's legs to get him out," Carlisle explained, "but if we do that, it'll shift that load-bearing beam," he pointed, "and likely bring the whole dome down on us."

"What about the shield?" Teyla interjected. "Will it not protect Rodney from a collapse?"

Carlisle nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, it would." He knelt next to Rodney's legs and looked under the beam. "Colonel, Dr. McKay said it was just his feet trapped, right?"

John nodded. "Yeah. I was able to get my hand under there to cover his leg wound, so there's some room, just not much." A groan from Rodney interrupted the conversation. John glanced at the rapidly dripping IV before looking down. "McKay?"

"Here…." Rodney muttered.

John smiled slightly at Carson, who nodded absently.

"The IV will probably help him be a bit more lucid in a few minutes." Carson's voice was distracted as he felt the fingers of Rodney's broken arm. He nodded. "Warm. Good set. Nicely done, Colonel." He gently palpated Rodney's torso, eliciting a groan from his patient. "Definitely broken." Carson stood and looked at John. "I need to be where you are, Colonel, so I can have a look at his leg."

"Sure." John pushed himself up, but only got as far as kneeling before spikes of pain shot through him, and the ground seemed to tilt sideways. His stomach did a summersault and he froze, sucking a hissing breath through clenched teeth.

"Colonel?"

He felt Carson's firm hand on one arm, followed almost immediately by Ronon's strong grip on the other. He took a couple shallow breaths. "Ribs… head...," he managed. He felt the doctor's hand probe the gash on the back of his head.

"Aye. Ye cracked it good." Carson's voice was soothing. "Just take it easy and slow."

With both their help, John managed to stand and step back, before settling to the ground again. He looked up as Carson flashed him a small smile.

"Stay put, Colonel. I'm going to check Rodney's leg, then I want to give you a look see."

"'M okay, Doc…." John's voice trailed off at Carson's snort.

"I'll be the judge of that, lad." Carson stood and walked back to Rodney.

John took a quiet moment to collect himself, relieved that the ground seemed to be level again. He finally looked up at Teyla and Ronon and smiled slightly. "Good of you to join us."

"Had nothing better to do," Ronon teased, amusement crinkling his eyes slightly.

"Right," John chuckled and winced at its effect. He tightened his arm around his chest. "Enough of the jokes." He looked at Carlisle who was cautiously walking around the debris. "What are you thinking, Major?"

Carlisle stepped back around the rubble and walked towards the group. He knelt next to Rodney's legs and eyed the beam. "Pneumatic jack, sir. If only his feet are trapped, I doubt we'd have to move this beam much to get him out."

"Think we'll still need the shield, Major?" John asked.

"Definitely, sir," Carlisle nodded. "This place is a house of cards right now. Shift the standing column even just a little, and you're likely to bring the whole thing down." He stood. "We'll need to get everyone out of here, except one person to stay behind, under the shield, with McKay, to jack the beam up."

"That'd be me." John replied firmly.

"Ach, no." Carson stood up and walked over to him. "You're injured, Colonel. You should be the first person out of here."

John shook his head, smothering his pain with determination. Rodney was a member of his team. That brought in a whole set of rules that John never bent. Not only was he military commander and team leader, and therefore wasn't going to let any of them stay behind in his stead, but, damn it, Rodney was his friend. There was no way in hell he was leaving here without him. Slowly, he stood and glared coldly at Carson. "Not gonna happen, Doc. I won't have one of you doing something this dangerous while I beat a quick path to safety."

"I'll do it," Ronon volunteered.

John spun towards him, his actions eliciting a grunt of pain he couldn't quite stifle. "No!" He glared at Ronon. "I'm doing this. That's the end of it."

"Colonel…," Carson started.

John turned back, this time moving more slowly. "Carson, save it." He stepped closer to the doctor and stared hard at him. "I'm not leaving here without McKay." He held Carson's gaze as the doctor reached up and tapped his radio call button.

"Dr. Zelenka, please put me through to Dr. Weir."

To Carson's credit, he stoically held his strong expression as John's eyes narrowed in anger. "This isn't going to change anything." John kept his voice low and cold. "I'm not leaving."

"This is Weir." Elizabeth's voice came over all their headsets. "What's going on?"

John continued to stare hard at Carson as the doctor explained the situation.

"John, I have to agree with Carson's assessment on this." Elizabeth's voice was carefully neutral.

A cynical smile touched John's mouth. "Well, glad you two are in agreement. It still doesn't change anything."

"John…." Elizabeth's voice was heavy with reasonableness, but he'd have nothing to do with it.

"No!" he interrupted forcefully. "Damn it, Elizabeth! You'll have to have Ronon hog-tie me and haul me out of here to get me to leave before McKay is safe!"

Even through the intense pounding in his head, he could hear Elizabeth's loud sigh.

"You're a real pain in the ass sometimes, John," she said quietly. Her voice was calm, slightly resigned, and had no trace of anger.

John blinked. Her statement was meant to diffuse his anger, he knew it… and it worked. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Yep," he responded quietly.

"Permission granted, Colonel," Weir answered. "Weir out."

John looked at Carson, who shook his head in resignation.

"She's right ya know," Carson groused. He turned away and knelt next to Rodney's injured leg.

"Major?" John turned to Carlisle. "Get me a pneumatic jack, then you four get out of here."

Carlisle turned away and sent orders to Miller in the Jumper.

"John…?"

He turned, meeting Teyla's concerned look. "Teyla?"

She smiled slightly, and squeezed his forearm briefly. "Be careful."

A corner of his mouth turned up. "Piece of cake." He glanced at Carson as the doctor stood and walked over to the three of them.

"His leg is still bleeding," Carson's voice carried a worried note. "I've worked another bandage under the beam and over the wound. For now, the IV will keep him stable, but I need to get to his leg to stop the bleeding."

"All the more reason to do this sooner rather than later," John commented quietly. He nodded once at Carson. "Thanks Doc."

Carson signed loudly. "Aye." His gaze narrowed. "Now for you…." Carson produced a small syringe. "Since ye are being bullheaded and insisting on staying, against medical advice I might add, then I'm giving ye something for the pain. It won't do much, but I won't risk more until I know the extent of you head injury."

John stiffened and shook his head. "No way. No drugs. I need to be clear headed."

"Ach, Colonel!" Carson threw his hands up. "Work with me here! Ye have high pain tolerance but this is ridiculous. All this will do is take the edge off. Now, give me your arm."

John shook his head. "Not gonna happen. Just bind my ribs. I'll be fine."

"Oh, and that's your professional, educated opinion I gather?" Carson glowered.

John kept his expression resolute, fighting a small smile as Carson sighed loudly. "Doctor Weir's right. You really **are** a pain in the ass sometimes." Carson knelt, his hand disappearing inside his bag for a moment. "Worst damned patient I've ever had…," he muttered. When his hand emerged again, the syringe had been replaced by a roll of stout bandage material. "All right," he motioned. "Shirt off."

"Thanks, Doc," John smiled, his brow quirking as Carson grunted in response. His smile faded as he carefully shed his TAC vest and coat, before pulling the shirt over his head. He clenched his teeth as Carson tightly wound the bandage around his chest.

After several passes Carson secured the ends with tape and stood. "All right, that'll do."

John took a careful breath, nodding in approval. He looked up at Carson. "It's good." He quickly pulled his shirt, coat and TAC vest back on.

"Sure…." Rodney's weak voice captured their attentions. "Ignore… the injured man…."

"Rodney?" Carson turned, stepped over Rodney and knelt. He quickly grabbed his stethoscope and inflated the BP cuff.

John smiled and went to one knee next to Rodney, while Ronon and Teyla looked over his shoulder. "McKay. Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Funny…," Rodney replied. His eyes slowly shifted towards the column still trapping his legs. "Still here… I see. Can't you people do… anything without me?"

John arched an eyebrow. "We're lost without your heartwarming charm." He glanced at Carson as the doctor removed the BP cuff.

"110/70. Much better." Carson stood and backed away.

John watched Rodney's expression fall as he noticed Carson, Ronon and Teyla walk back towards the ropes dangling through the hole in the dome.

"Oh God," Rodney whispered. "You can't… get me out. You're leaving…." His eyes widened as phobic panic overwhelmed him.

Carson turned back. "Rodney…."

"McKay," John cut Carson off. He bent over, his face close to Rodney's. "I'm still here. I'm not leaving."

Rodney blinked hard before squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "Right." He whispered. After a long moment he opened his eyes, his expression more normal. "You've been here… the whole time. Why am I not… comforted by that… sentiment?"

John smiled. "This time, I have a pneumatic jack."

"Huh?"

John turned and looked at the column. "I'm gonna jack this thing off your feet. All I need from you is the shield."

"Shield…?" Rodney muttered. "You're going to shift the weight-bearing column, aren't you?"

John looked back at him. "No other way." He spared a moment to look up at his team. "Get going, you guys." He smiled slightly and made eye contact with each of them. "We'll be fine."

"Good luck, Colonel," Carlisle said. His gaze traveled upwards. "We'll be right up there in the Jumper."

John nodded. "Thanks, Major." He watched as the four of them secured themselves to their ropes, before Carlisle sent the order to Miller to lift them out. John returned his attention to Rodney as the rest of his team ascended. "So, McKay. The shield."

"Shield…." Rodney stared at his data pad. "Right… If I can raise it…."

John's gaze narrowed at Rodney's apprehension. "What do you mean, if?"

An annoyed expression blanketed Rodney's pale face. "With this Daffy Duck… arrangement I can't… make any guarantees!"

John's brows arched. "Daffy Duck?"

"Its jury rigged… six ways… from Sunday," Rodney snapped. "I didn't expect… to have to raise it more… than once." He took a moment to pant lightly.

"**When** you get it up, will it hold?" John questioned cautiously. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but had to ask anyway.

"I have no… idea. But, we knew that… from the beginning…." Rodney's expression turned reflective. He looked up at John in wonder. "You already… knew that, but… you stayed with… me."

John shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, someone had to."

Immediately, the impassive mask fell back over Rodney's face. "Right. Of course." He returned his attention to the data pad.

John stared at him for a moment, his thoughts turning to those times Rodney had saved all of them. Beyond that, Rodney had saved him too… more than once, something that, in spite of everything that had happened, John didn't forget easily. They were a team; they watched each other's back. While that was a given for a soldier, John had developed a tremendous amount of respect for Rodney, who, contrary to all outward shows of weakness, had adopted that philosophy as well. Under it all, Rodney had more bravery then even he realized. Not many people would face a Wraith with only one nine mill and two clips, in the name of helping a friend… to name just one occasion Rodney had gone into bat for him. John smiled. "McKay?"

Rodney looked up, his gaze narrowing at the softly amused expression on John's face. "What?"

John stared hard at him, as his mind raced, looking for the right words. In the end, he settled on just a few. "There was no way I was going to leave here without you."

Rodney blinked heavily and stared at him for a moment, before a genuine smile creased his mouth. He lifted his arm. "Whatever happens… thanks."

John grasped his hand in a strong, masculine grasp.His grip around Rodney's thumb tightened slightly. No words came to him, but somehow he knew they weren't needed, and that the handshake meant the same to Rodney. It was an unspoken bond between teammates… between friends. More, it was the last, solidifying act that buried the hatchet over the disagreement that had loomed between them since Arcturus. Once and for all, John knew he was past the distrust, and he saw the same thing in Rodney's eyes without either of them saying a word. Even if they didn't make it out of here, John knew things were right again between him and Rodney.

Rodney broke the grasp first. He looked down at the data pad. "Ready." He punched a button and gazed up as the soft, gold glow returned.

John slid the pneumatic jack as far under the rubble and as close to Rodney's legs as he could. "Here we go. Let me know when you can move your feet. I don't want to raise this any higher than we have to."

"Right."

The shake in Rodney's voice wasn't lost on John as he slowly began jacking up the column. Each depression of the handle brought ominous moans and creaks from the column and surrounding debris. Dust billowed as small bits of masonry bounced off the shield, but John continued, determined to free his friend. Another push on the handle and a loud crack echoed above them. He winced as he looked up warily, before glancing at Rodney. "Anything?"

Rodney's upper body tensed as he apparently tried to move his feet. "You're close."

"Right." John's voice cracked. He depressed the handle again, his head jerking up as a good-sized piece of rubble bounced off the shield.

"I think… that's it…," Rodney gasped. He grunted, his face contorting in obvious pain.

John's brow creased in concern. "Rodney? You okay?"

Rodney squeezed his eyes shut. "Cramps…," he managed through clenched teeth.

John nodded. Rodney's feet had been motionless and trapped for hours, so he imagined they'd hurt quite a bit. "Easy," he said reassuringly, "just breathe through it."

Rodney pulled in one stuttering breath, and then another. "Right."

John's brows arched and his eyes rolled upwards as another piece of rubble bounced off the shield, fueling his sense of urgency. "Anything broken down there?"

"Don't… think so…," Rodney gasped.

"Okay." Careful not to bump the jack, John stood, stepped over Rodney and lay down next to his legs. He grabbed Rodney's left pant leg, careful to avoid the bleeding wound. "Rodney, you're going to have to help me, okay? Bend your leg. I know it's gonna hurt like hell, but we don't have a lot of choices here. You're going to have to pivot to your left too, so we can get your legs free. I'll do my best to help you, okay?"

"'K…."

John pulled on Rodney's pant leg, tuning out his friend's gasps of pain as Rodney bent his knee and shifted himself around. As soon as Rodney's left leg was clear, he grabbed Rodney's right pant leg. "Almost there," he encouraged as he pulled again. He smiled as the right leg emerged from under the rubble. "That's it, you're free." He looked up as Rodney's entire body went limp. "McKay?" His eyes widened at Rodney's closed ones, and he pushed himself up on his hands and knees, only to pause as a wave of nausea swept through him.

_Damn…._ He squeezed his eyes shut, and forced his rebellious stomach under control. _Good thing I gave that cookie to Rodney…._ The thought of his friend forced him to move.

He crawled up to Rodney's head. "Rodney?" His fingers probed Rodney's neck and he sighed in relief as a slow but steady pulse beat back against his fingers. Putting his hand on Rodney's abdomen, he nodded as the doctor's shallow breaths expanded against his touch. He tapped his radio. "Carlisle, this is Sheppard. McKay's free."

"Copy that, Colonel. Stand by. We're on our way down," Carlisle answered.

"How's Rodney?" Carson's voice followed on the heels of the major's.

John couldn't quite keep all the concern from his voice. "Unconscious, but I think he's stable for now."

"How's the structure, Colonel?" Carlisle asked.

John looked up, noting small puffs of dust as pieces of the ceiling and rubble shifted minutely. He chewed his lower lip while he looked around, fighting the nervousness that twisted his gut. "Not good." He sighed. "Major, I don't want anyone coming down here."

"Colonel, ye need help to get Rodney out. He's unconscious and you're injured. I don't care how bound your ribs are, or how high your pain tolerance is, you can't lift an unconscious man." Carson insisted.

John clenched his teeth, stifling a retort. Deep down, he knew Carson was right, even if he didn't want to admit it. Rodney wasn't a small man, and as unconscious, dead weight there was no way John would be able to lift him into a position where he could secure both of them and have the jumper lift them out. His mind raced, looking for an alternative.

"I'll come down," Ronon suddenly responded.

"No!" John immediately answered, "And that's an order."

"John…," Teyla started.

"Major?" he interrupted, an idea coming to him, "with the Jumper's standard inventory there's climbing gear. There should be something similar to a Bosun's Chair with that. Send it down, along with a regular harness for me."

"Bosun's chair?" Ronon's voice was slightly confused.

"Yeah," John answered. "It's a canvas harness, sort of like a chair. I can slide it under Rodney, secure it, and then the Jumper can lift him into a sitting position. Then I can secure him to my harness and I'll steady him as the Jumper lifts both of us out."

"In other words, the Jumper does all the lifting for you?" Carson surmised.

"Exactly." John picked up the data pad from where it sat next to Rodney. He experimentally tapped a few keys. "How did he…?" His voice trailed off as he hit on the right combination. Abruptly, the glow of the shield over them disappeared. "Okay, the shield is down. Send me the gear and make sure the ropes can support both of us at once. I'll need to steady McKay as you pull us up."

An ominous creak grabbed John's attention and his eyes settled on the high end of the weight-bearing beam. He felt a spike of adrenaline as the unstable structure fueled urgency within him. "Double time it, Major. I don't think this place is going to be standing for much longer." He looked up at the underside of the Jumper. "And that equipment better come down without any of you tagging along for the ride."

"You ordered us to stay here," Ronon replied, his tone slightly frustrated.

John allowed a small, cynical smile. "It bore repeating." He watched as the gear slowly made its way down to him. After a minute he stepped back, letting it fall to the ground in front of him.

The Bosun's Chair was tied closed, presumably holding the rest of the climbing gear. John loosened a couple knots and pulled it so he could fish out the two coils of stout rope and additional harness hidden inside. He then untied the chair from the jumper's line and let it fall to the ground. He quickly stepped into his own harness and secured it, before grabbing the Bosun's Chair again. "Stand by. As soon as I get McKay in the chair, I'll need you to lift him a couple feet off the ground."

"Copy that, sir," Miller answered. "I have you both on the HUD."

"Colonel," Carson interjected. "You'd best shut off Rodney's IV until this is over. The last thing we need is a complication in the line from all this jostling."

"Copy that, Doc." John reached up and quickly pinched off the line, before laying the IV bag on Rodney's stomach. He looped the extra coils of the IV line under the splint, and carefully laid Rodney's broken arm across his chest. Straightening, he pressed a palm to his forehead as pain lanced through his head once more. He paused, taking a couple breaths as he found his balance again. The ribs, the whack on his head, all of it was catching up with him and the timing couldn't be worse. _Damn it, not now…._

He crawled to Rodney's feet and spread the Bosun's chair out flat before he carefully lifted first one of Rodney's legs and then the other, allowing him to slide the chair under Rodney body. He paused at a slight groan from Rodney. "McKay?" He waited a moment for a reply, but when none came, he he quickly set to work again, driven by a sense of urgency, only to be momentarily crippled by pain as he twisted wrong. He clenched his teeth and drew in a loud, hissing breath. "We're a hell of a pair," he muttered, knowing Rodney couldn't hear him. "Slow down, Sheppard. You're no good to anyone unconscious, and Beckett'll have your ass in a sling if you pass out now…." Slowly, he worked the chair under Rodney's hips, pausing each time a quiet groan came from the lightly unconscious man, until the chair was in place under him. He slowly stood and walked over to the dangling rope from the Jumper and grabbed it. "Give me some slack." He waited a moment until more rope followed his command, before he walked back to Rodney, laying the rope behind him as he went.

He put one foot on each side of Rodney's hips and knelt. He lifted the two ends of the chair up, brought the D rings together and quickly tied the Jumper's line through them. As he stood, the ground seemed to tilt, and it took everything he had to stay upright. He staggered, his hand latching onto a piece of rubble to steady himself. After a minute, his equilibrium returned and he slowly crouched next to Rodney. Acting almost like a sling, the Bosun's Chair would hold Rodney's weight, but since he was unconscious, it would be up to John to support his head and upper body so that Rodney wouldn't fall backwards out of it. He swallowed against nausea. _Keep it together, Sheppard…._

He slid his right arm under Rodney's head while he rested his left hand on Rodney's waist. He forced a steady note to his voice. "Okay, we're ready. Nice and easy now, Miller. I only need him a few feet off the ground." Slowly, Rodney rose from the ground and John followed. He moved from kneeling to crouching and finally standing, all the while gritting his teeth against the pain from his ribs and head. Vaguely, through the pain, he spared a moment to be thankful he didn't have to lift Rodney's full weight.

When Rodney was about waist high to him, he called the jumper. "Okay, good, stop." He stood still for a moment to regain his balance. When the throbbing in his head lessened, he continued his task.

Still holding Rodney, he carefully stepped sideways, gently lifting Rodney's upper body towards the vertical and allowing him to pivot over the chair until he was nearly in a sitting position. Facing him, John gently continued pulling Rodney's weight towards him, until Rodney's head settled on his shoulder. He stood rock still and slowly let go, allowing his shoulder and the Bosun's Chair to fully support Rodney. He looked up at the Jumper. "Toss me another line."

John stepped between Rodney's legs and as close to him as he could. He carefully secured Rodney's chair to his harness, before he secured himself to the second line from the Jumper. Holding tightly to the rope with one hand, and pulling Rodney firmly against his chest and steadying him with the other, John took a long, strengthening breath. "Okay, take us up."

John settled back into his harness and held onto to Rodney as he felt his feet leave the ground. He looked down as Rodney groaned. "McKay?" Rodney's head slowly lifted from his shoulder.

"Wha…?"

John pursed his lips at Rodney's groggy and slurred reply. _If he puts two and two together…._

"Oh god…."

John's grip tightened as he felt Rodney tense. "Whoa, easy, Rodney. You're okay. Miller's getting us out of here. Just relax." He stared intently in to Rodney's eyes as he sat back slightly.

Rodney's eyes cleared a little and he nodded. "Right. Of… course…." He grabbed tightly to the side of John's harness with his good hand. He turned his head and looked down for a second before squeezing his eyes shut. "I hate… heights," he managed.

"Then stop looking down," John retorted. His gaze narrowed as Rodney's eyelids drooped. "McKay? This would be easier if you stayed awake." He shook Rodney slightly as his head nodded forward. "Come on, buddy. Stay with me, okay?"

"Uh…huh…," Rodney slurred.

John felt his muscles start shaking, their endurance undermined by fatigue and injury. He stared at his hand, his eyes drifting to the multi-colors that wove through the rope, just now becoming visible as they ascended towards daylight. _Who thinks of these colors?_ He blinked hard, focusing on the rope and using that focal point to hang onto consciousness. The physical stresses of the day's events were finally taking their toll on him and catching up to him at the worst time.

The bright sunlight forced his eyes shut and he lost his focal point, but somewhere inside, John was relieved just to be feeling the warmth of the sun again. "We're out," he said softly.

"Thank… god," Rodney muttered.

John was inclined to agree, but didn't have the strength to voice it. Warm darkness, fueled by the comforting rays of sunshine on his face, pushed at the edges of his consciousness. His head fell forward until his forehead was resting against the taut rope in front of him. He struggled to stay awake, his steadying hold on Rodney and the rope securing them the only thing holding him in the conscious world. Below, the ground and the group of people waiting grew closer.

As his feet slowly touched the ground, John felt strong hands grab his arms. Someone gently, but insistently peeled his hand away from Rodney, and he felt someone else untying the ropes binding them together. Somehow, the people around knew his legs wouldn't support him, because as soon as he was free, several sets of hands slowly lowered him to the ground. He could faintly hear the jumper landing behind him as he looked up, his eyes focusing on one face staring intently back at him. "Radek?" he managed. He caught a glimpse of Radek's smile and instant before his eyes fell shut.

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The first thing he was aware of was the quiet but steady beeping coming from near his head. He stirred slightly. He peeled his eyes open, instantly regretting it as bright light assaulted him. He squeezed them shut and groaned softly.

"Ah! Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"

John swallowed against a dry throat. He didn't need to open his eyes to recognize Rodney's voice, but he asked anyway. "McKay?"

"Who else would it be?" Rodney answered cynically.

John's head cleared some. "I was hoping it was a bad dream and I'd just wake up."

"Very funny," Rodney snapped.

Deciding to get past the unpleasant, John resigned himself to the bright infirmary lights and opened his eyes. He squinted as two more people walked up next to his bed. He glanced at Carson, who was staring at the beeping monitor, before fixing his gaze on Elizabeth.

She smiled. "John, how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a Mack truck." John shifted slightly and groaned.

"I'd imagine so," Carson stepped back before looking down at him. "You cracked that hard head of yours pretty good, Colonel and ye have three broken ribs plus numerous other minor injuries. As it is, you're going to be sore for quite a while yet, and in that bed for at least three more days."

John sighed and grunted as his ribs protested. "Crap."

"What do you expect, insisting on staying behind and being noble, when you were in no condition to be doing anything?" Rodney fixed him with an acerbic stare.

John cocked a brow. "I hauled your butt to safety good enough. Besides, I didn't hear you coming up with any brilliant ideas."

"I was half unconscious!" Rodney protested.

"Okay, all right, that's enough," Carson interjected. "You both need your rest so I'm ordering both of you to sleep!"

The protest on John's lips died as he felt a warm hand on his wrist. He looked down at Elizabeth's slender fingers wrapped around his. His gaze found hers.

She smiled warmly. "Get some rest, John. It's good to have you back."

He tightened his grip on hers briefly. "Good to be back." He let go as she stood and walked away.

Settling his head deeper into the pillow John closed his eyes.

"Colonel?"

He opened one eye, cocked his brow and turned his head slightly in Rodney's direction. "What?" John opened his other eye and wrinkled his brow at the uncomfortable look on Rodney's face. "McKay?"

"Look uh…" Rodney looked around for a minute as if he was assuring himself they were alone.

John chuckled quietly. After everything they'd been through, it was somehow comforting to know that Rodney was still Rodney, and still had a reputation to keep up, in spite of his close friends really knowing better. His smile faded.

Rodney's gaze fell to where his good hand was absently picking at his blanket. "I just wanted to say… that is… well, thanks… again."

John's mouth turned up in a half smile. "You're welcome… again." He sighed quietly and carefully. "And thanks."

Rodney looked over at him. "For what? You got to be the hero."

John held his smile. "Without the shield we'd both be dead."

Rodney returned his attention to the blanket, but he nodded slightly. "True."

"So," John sank deeper into his bed. "Let's just call it a team effort." He glanced sideways, watching as a genuine smile slowly spread across Rodney's face.

"Okay." Rodney answered quietly. "But that still…"

"Rodney," John interrupted as he closed his eyes. "Go to sleep."

"Right."

John willed the tension from his body as he listened to Rodney settle into his bed. A light feeling of contentment touched him. He'd never wish that experience on anyone, but now that it was over, he was grateful for it. Okay, he was grateful for _parts_ of it, if only because they finally made him and Rodney clear the air between them. John sighed. Somehow, he knew none of them were done with making mistakes, but as sleep started to take hold of him, he vowed that, next time, it wouldn't take a cave in for him to forgive.

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_Author's notes:_

_Ever since I saw Trinity, I've been wanting to write this story (or something to tie up that rather major dangling plot line) I'm pleased to have finally de-fanged that plot bunny:D_

_Big thanks to TanaquiSGA for her patient beta'ing and tolerance for my little mistakes and for lending her engineering knowledge to my little… uhh… predicament. G Big hugs TS:D_


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